


Yes, Doctor

by veraiconcos



Series: Yes, Doctor Series [1]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: F/M, Professor!Reid, fan fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:08:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 38,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23935879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/veraiconcos/pseuds/veraiconcos
Summary: Vivian is a junior studying chemistry at the University of Michigan. Starting the semester she runs into, quite literally, one of the most attractive TAs she has ever seen. Now isn’t the time for her to be worrying about love or romance, she has a career to kick start. But, will she be able to pull herself away from her budding romance with Dr. Reid?
Relationships: Spencer Reid/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Yes, Doctor Series [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1753897
Comments: 33
Kudos: 55





	1. Sueñas

“Almond milk flat white with hazelnut!” A barista shouts across the crowded coffee shop, Sueñas, that I stop at every week during the semester.  
Muttering ‘excuse me’ through the crowd of businessmen late for meetings and professors late for class, I claim my order. With my comfort beverage in hand, I make my way towards the door but before I can even take a sip, a walking tornado of papers and tweed blows past me, bumping my arm and knocking my drink to the ground.  
“I am so, so sorry!” The man scrambles, picking up his glasses and journal and placing a hand on my shoulder.  
“It’s…fine,” I sigh, reaching to pick up my crushed coffee cup.  
“No, no it’s not. Let me buy you another one,” he sucks in a breath of air, “except I’m late right now. Oh gosh…here,” he frantically pulls his wallet out of the pocket of his blazer, shoving a crumpled bill into my hand. I attempt to protest this random man shoving money at me, but he’s out the door as fast as he appeared.  
Not-so-patiently making my way through the queue of caffeine addicts once again, I grab my new order. As I go to turn my music on again, I see the time glow across my phone screen. 10:00 on the dot.  
“Dammit I cannot be late on the first day.”  
My first lecture starts at 10 and I already know this professor is a hard ass. If I run, I can be there in 5.  
Winded, I take my seat in the back row as an older woman continues her monologue to the hundred students who were able to arrive on time. I scramble to open my laptop to start taking notes as she moves from the syllabus to an introduction to molecular orbital theory.  
After forty minutes of grueling yet fascinating chemistry, I am finally dismissed from the lecture hall. The only upside to my late arrival was being able to make a quick get away ahead of the rest of the tired college students I shared a class with.  
Having a few hours to break before I have another class to attend, I lay my bag down beside a bench in the atrium of the chemistry building. This hub on campus had become a home to me over the two years I had been a student here. I knew most of the staff and student orgs who worked out of the building. As a chemistry major, most of my classes took place here now.  
I laid myself down onto the bench and starred up through the glass ceiling. Attempting to zone out, I close my eyes, but I can’t help but hear a commotion next to me. As I glance over, I see a pile of papers and a leather tote bag sprawled out across the floor. A tall, lanky man stands in front of my professor as she lectures him on the importance of punctuality.  
“Yes ma’am, I understand,” he states, not making eye contact with the woman who stands at almost a foot shorter than him.  
“Don’t ma’am me, I am here as a resource to you. I want to be your friend and your mentor, but you have to keep up your end of the deal Spencer.” He nods and turns in my direction. I quickly look away, knowing I have a bad habit of eavesdropping. Yet, I can’t pull my eyes away. The tweed blazer, shaggy hair, and round glasses belong to the frantic man from Sueñas who murdered my coffee and caused my tardiness.  
Unlucky for me, he catches my gaze. Expecting a frown due to my nosiness, I am surprised when he shyly smiles in my direction. I’m taken even more aback when he sits down next to me.  
“I’d like to say I’m sorry about your coffee again,” he says, keeping a respectful distance between us on the bench. “I hope you were able to replace it.”  
“Yeah, I was, but I didn’t realize it would make me late for my lecture.” His face fell a little at my comment.  
“Oh no, now I just have more to make up to you.” He followed this remark with a chuckle. We sat in silence for a moment before he spoke again.  
“I was going to be late to Professor Session’s lecture too, that’s why I was in such a hurry,” he explained. I smiled at him, but he kept his focus on his feet.  
“Too? You’re in her quantum mechanics lecture?” I didn’t see him in the lecture, but then again, the class was huge, and I was too focused on the material.  
“Sort of, I teach it with her. I’m a TA.” My shock at this information was clearly present on my face as he laughed at me. He was younger than many of the upper level TAs I had had before. Many of them are usually working on their second or third doctorate. This man couldn’t be more than 24 years old, and if he was always as frantic as he was this morning there’s no way, he was a successful graduate student.  
“I’m working on a PhD in chemistry right now. Sessions and her lab are doing the most amazing work in modern quantum mechanics I had to work with her. I might already be on her bad side though.” I laughed at his last remark. He seemed completely absorbed by her work as he talked about it. It was almost adorable the way he spoke.  
Adorable? Two years of college I had gotten through without ogling over boys. I had no time for that if I was going to be a successful cosmetic chemist. I hadn’t even seen a boy worth ogling over in the time that I’ve spent here.  
After glancing at his watch, he scrapped his papers and leather bag up from the floor. Slinging his bag over his shoulder, he stretched his arm out to shake my hand. Grasping it, it was a bit cold and quite boney, but his touch was gentle.  
“I’m Vivian Harris,” I stared into his hazel eyes as we shook.  
“My name’s Spencer Reid. I guess I’ll be seeing more of you around.” His smiled and turned away.


	2. A Favor Owed

I awake to the sound of the annoying generic iPhone alarm at seven thirty in the morning. Shielding my eyes from the sun, I roll over to check my notifications. Zero. Aside from some junk emails and senseless twitter updates, my phone is bone dry. Unfortunately for me, this means there is nothing keeping me in bed longer on this sunny Monday morning, so I pull myself up and into the bathroom.   
It had been a week since I met Spencer. I saw him twice again in class the week before. He always sat in the back row and he was always the last to leave. After Monday, he was a lot more elusive—I would catch glances of him in the chemistry building, but he would never stay in one place for a very long time.   
I start my normal routine, brushing my teeth and starting the shower. I go to start my coffee when I realized what Monday meant, my weekly coffee treat. I got to stop by Sueñas before my 10 am.   
I hopped into the shower and let the water, which is probably way hotter than any human should be able to enjoy and inhale the steam. As I’m letting my conditioner set, singing along to my playlist of choice this morning—the 1975 and King Princess mostly—I find Spencer popping into my head. I shake the though of his messy hair and stubble, knowing I shouldn’t be thinking about my TA when I’m naked and steamy.   
This semester was the first that I had an apartment with a room to myself, meaning rent was more and I couldn’t waste so much of my already minimal disposable income fueling my caffeine addiction. I invested in a reasonably prices carafe and cut down my coffee house trips to once a week. Sueñas was my coffee house of choice because it had the best espresso in town and the warmest hometown feel.  
I took way too long to get ready. I strolled into Sueñas at 9:45 hoping that the line wouldn’t be too long. I was quite disappointed as I saw it stretch across the café. If I couldn’t grab my drink at least my hair and makeup looked good as those two things can make me late for anything. I sigh and turn to walk towards the door as I catch the gleaming hazel eyes of my TA.  
He sees me too, smiling and waving me over.   
“Ah, thank you for saving me from this line. I was almost willing to go through today caffeinated,” I said as some of the other patrons glared at me.   
“Of course, I couldn’t let you be late two Mondays in a row,” he joked. His show stopping smile spread across his face and I cursed myself for staring at it for so long.   
The customer in front of us leaves and we make our way to the counter.   
“Can I get a large red eye and whatever the lady is getting?” He turns to me expecting my order.   
“No, I can get my own, don’t worry about it,” I shy away from his offer.  
“Nonsense, I told you I would make up last week to you. Let me.” The customers behind us grew impatient and I couldn’t make them wait any longer.   
“A small flat white with almond milk, please,” I tell the barista.   
“Make it a large,” Spencer corrects. I smack his arm but don’t protest any further, not wanting to hold up the line anymore.   
We chat as we wait for our orders. He tells me that he grew up in Las Vegas yet rarely made trips to the Strip. He chose to do his doctorate at Michigan because of the college town vibe while still having more nature than his hometown.   
I tell him I grew up in Michigan but no where like Ann Arbor. After two years, A squared was my home but, I was ready to see what the world had for me afterwards.   
“It’s nine fifty,” I point out as we leave the crowded shoppe.   
“We better hurry then, can’t be on Sessions’s bad side.” He jokes a lot, I noticed. I like it.   
We arrive with a few minutes to spare. I make my way to the fourth row, where I always sit, then turn to try and find Spencer in his normal spot in the last row. To my surprise, he’s right behind me. He places his leather bag on the table and pulls out a journal and a laptop.   
“You’re sitting with me,” I say, not being able to find the normal strength in my voice.  
“Yeah, if that’s okay?” He seems to have shied away from me as well. All I can do is nod. Sessions begins lecturing and I see Spencer’s head dive into his journal. He spends the hour making rushed notes in purple ink and switching onto his laptop from time to time he outlines the entirety of the lecture.   
Sessions comes to a close nearing 10:50.   
“Remember class, discussion sections begin meeting this week. Get familiar with your TAs as they will be some of the best resources for you this semester. Many of them already hold PhDs in related areas so pay attention to them!” She closes. I gather my things and turn to see Spencer still buried in his journal.   
“I’ll see you around, Spence,” I say, placing my hand on his back. He almost didn’t notice me leaving but, this gesture caused his head to perk up. He saw me off with a smile and turned his head back to his notes.


	3. Discussion

For once, I arrived at a class on time. I look up at the clock to see that it is 11:45, still fifteen minutes until my discussion section began. One other girl sat across the room from me, her head tucked between the pages of a book that looked to be a cheesy romance novel. I returned my attention to my own pastime—also a cheesy romance novel. The minutes pass as I read about Maria and her unbreakable love triangle. I barely notice the few other students filling in the classroom.   
Before I know it, the TA is beginning the class and I haven’t even opened my bag to begin taking notes. However, I am caught off guard by the voice that introduces himself.   
“Hey guys. My name is Dr. Reid and I will be assisting you in your quantum mechanics education this term.” My eyes go wide, and he sees this. Our eyes lock across the room and I pray that the other handful of students in the room don’t notice.   
He quickly breaks away from our moment and broadcasts his computer screen in front of the classroom. It’s a picture of him smiling in a lab coat next to a few other lab members accompanied by a handful of bullet points about his life.   
“You guys can call me Spencer, Reid, Dr. Reid, Dr. Spencer, I don’t really care. I’m just here to help you guys learn and share my knowledge and experience of higher education. I have B.S.s in psychology and sociology from Stanford but I received my PhD in mathematics about 3 years ago from Cal Tech.”  
The small crowd of undergrads, including myself, starred in awe at the man in front of us. So accomplished yet so young. He hadn’t mentioned any of this when we walked to class together on Monday, just tidbits about his childhood and how he ended up at Michigan.   
“I’m finishing my PhD in chemistry this year working in Professor Sessions’s lab so I will be a great resource for you all this semester.”  
“How old are you?” A guy in the corner with barely a pencil asks after Spencer finishes his spiel. The class laughs, Spencer too.   
“I’m 23. I started undergrad when I was 15.” The small crowd was filled with oohs and ahs at this information. All I could do was manage to stare. I could see him begin to blush at the attention that all these impressionable college students were giving him.   
“Why don’t we start with a quick ice breaker so I can get to know you all and then we can go over the last few lectures on molecular orbital theory. Why don’t…you start,” he points to me with a smirk.   
“Uh, okay,” I stutter. “My name is Vivian and I’m a chemistry major.” I stick to the information we’re usually asked to give in an ice breaker.   
“What’s your favorite ice cream flavor, Vivian?” He asks, now with a full-blown smile on his face.  
“Anything with caramel.” I almost ask, confused at his choice of fun fact to have us include. He moves along to the girl next to me and she gives her name, major, and favorite ice cream flavor. It takes about ten minutes to get through the fifteen or so students in the room. He’s almost able to move on to our lecture material when I interrupt.   
“What about you? What’s your favorite flavor?” He starts blushing again.   
“Cherry Garcia,” he says, losing some of the confidence in his voice.   
We discuss chemistry as a group for the rest of the hour. I find myself starring at Spencer way too often. He pushes his hair out of his face before he begins explaining complex material. He cracks a small smile whenever he sees his students catching on. His handwriting is rushed and by the end of the hour his pants are covered in yellow chalk dust.   
At 12:50, the rest of the class begins to pack up as Spencer wraps up his comments. The students file out a few at a time until just Spencer and I are left in the small room. He doesn’t notice as he’s still erasing his notes from the board.   
“Very insightful,” I tease and obviously catch him off guard. He jumps a little, but his eyes brighten when he catches my gaze.   
“I did not know you would be my student. I didn’t even see you when I came in you had your head so deep in that book,” he jokes. We stand silent for a moment, me being too embarrassed that he noticed my novel.   
“What else do you have going on today?” He asks. I take a moment to remember my schedule and realize I’m done for the day.  
“I’m actually done for the day. I’ll probably go back to my apartment for lunch and get some studying in before retiring to the couch to wat Netflix,” I ramble.  
“That sounds fun and all but…” he hesitates, and I catch him blushing once again. “Why don’t we grab lunch.” His voice is shy again. I feel my face starting to heat up.   
I remind myself that he is a TA and that this is probably not appropriate. He’s going to be one of the people grading my exams. But he can’t mean this in a way anymore than friends, of course, he’s too professional, too experienced for that. If anything, it would be great to have a friendship with someone as accomplished as him.   
“Yeah, okay. Where do you want to go?” I ask. He thinks for a moment, squinting his eyes.   
“Do you like Charlie’s?” I nod in excitement. It’s one of my favorite places to go for a quick bite. I shove my laptop and my book into my bag and exit the room as he holds the door for me. I swear I feel his hand brush against my back as he lets go of the door.


	4. The Lunch Date

There was a light breeze in the September air as we walked down State Street. Spencer’s hair blew across his face while he admired the shops and pedestrians lining the streets. I had been in Ann Arbor for two years now, yet I was still taken aback by the beauty that downtown offered. There was never a slow day, there were always people lining the streets, rain or shine. The shops and restaurants were all unique to downtown, barely any chains.   
Charlie’s was my go-to on a good day. The grease and salt, no matter how bad for me, always put a smile on my face. I began to wonder what Spencer had become attracted to in his time in Ann Arbor. He’s been here for the past year, he had to have his favorites and traditions. It surprised me that it took me this long to notice him. He was gorgeous in his own special way so if he had been in the Chem Building throughout last year I would have noticed. Not that I was looking for gorgeous boys or anything, sometimes my eyes just wander.   
“Is Charlie’s good?” He questioned as we neared the tiny hut with white brick walls and a red roof.   
“You’re the one that suggested it, what do you mean is the food good?” I am so confused. Everyone in Ann Arbor loves Charlie’s. There’s no way he’s never been here before.   
“I honestly never left my apartment last year. I haven’t really been anywhere around here except Starbucks and Noodles and Company,” he replies.   
“That is just terrible. This is your year to explore the city and I’m going to help you.” I’m going to what? I try to remind myself that this is a budding friendship. Nothing more. He could be a great mentor and advisor and I don’t need to worry about guys right now.   
We head into the tiny building and I walk right up to the register. I always get the same thing. Spence takes a moment to examine the menu. I watch him squint and notice he isn’t wearing his glasses like usual.   
“How blind are you?” I tease. He glares at me.  
“Grilled chicken on a wheat bun with grilled onions and garlic aioli. Can I get a side of Cajun fries too?” I ask the man at the front who probably knows me all too well. He tells me the price and I pull out my wallet. Before I can grab my card, I feel Spencer’s hand on top of mine. The whole room freezes.   
His palms are cold and clammy, like he’s nervous. His grip is gentle but he’s not letting up to let me pay. All I can focus on is the feel of is skin on mine. I completely zone out while he orders and pays for both of our meals. I’m not resisting anymore but he doesn’t let go of my hand. Even once the cashier has walked away and Spencer’s wallet is back in his pocket, both of our hands rest on the counter.   
Once I can focus again, I catch him staring at that spot on the counter. He takes less time to return to reality than I did and slowly pulls his hand back. I don’t even know what to say. I just grab a seat at the counter and wait to feel his presence next to mine. It’s a short wait before we both get our food, and it looks like Spencer ordered chicken tenders.   
“Interesting meal choice there, hold old are you again?” I joke with him.  
“A restaurant is only as good as their chicken tenders,” he replies.   
“That’s respectable I guess.” And our banter stops. I take a bite out of my food and it’s as good as Charlie’s always is. I try and shift my focus from the discomfort between us to the pile of fries in my basket.   
“How’s your food?” He asks, attempting to salvage our meal together.   
“Good as ever,” I say with a mouth full. This makes him laugh and suddenly, it’s not so awkward. I steal some fries from his basket despite having my own.   
“Hey, cut that out,” he reaches for my hand again as I shove his food in my mouth, “you have your own, what do you need mine for?”   
“Food just tastes better when you steal it,” this comment receives a look from the cashier, which makes both of us laugh out loud.   
The rest of our meal is spent getting to know each other better and making bad jokes. Our obnoxiousness as the only customers in the restaurant made the staff give us many strange looks. After stealing each other’s fries back and forth for another ten minutes, we placed our trays on top of the trash can and got up to leave.   
“After you,” He holds the door for me and gestures for me to exit. I walk out and feel his hand brush against my back the same way it did earlier. I glance back at him and he looks almost embarrassed.   
“Where are you headed now?” He asks as we head back towards campus.   
“Just back to my apartment. I might be able to start getting ahead on my workload for the semester.”  
“Did you want me to walk you back?” Again, he loses confidence in his voice, as if he’s nervous to be asking me this. But that wouldn’t make any sense because he is clearly asking as a friend. He wouldn’t be interested in me like that, would he?  
“If you want. I guess it would be the next step in our budding friendship for me to show you where I live,” I laugh. I avoid looking at his reaction, worried that in the off chance that if he was interested, I just friend zoned him.   
We walk ten minutes to my building, but we don’t chat as much as we did at lunch or at the coffee shop a few days ago. I try to fill the silence with random facts about science and history. He nods along but I get the feeling that he already knew all the information I had to offer to him.   
He keeps his hands in his pocket despite it being a beautiful day, no need to keep warm. His steps synch to mine as we near the apartment complex. He adjusts the bag on his shoulder over and over as we approach the door. I scan my key card and open the door, but Spencer hesitates.  
“Come on up, you can help me start studying for Sessions’s first exam,” I say. He doesn’t respond. He just smiles and follows me in.


	5. Empty Apartment

“Where do you stay, Spence?” I hand him a cup of coffee fresh from the pot. He’s sitting on the edge of my couch, his bag still slung over his shoulder. I wish he would get more comfortable; it would make me more comfortable.  
He was wearing a white button down that hung untucked at his hips. His mocha colored corduroy pants fit his slim figure well. His burgundy tie was covered in tiny pink roses and tied loosely at his neck. His white chucks sat by the door, revealing his bright green socks to me.  
“Just a few blocks away from North Quad. It’s a really small duplex. Rent over here is ridiculous.” I nod in agreement.   
I sit down next to him with my own cup of hot coffee. I, however, curl up on my side of the couch, hugging the decorative purple pillow I keep there. Suddenly, I hear rustling in the other room, and I perk up.  
“Hey Viv, are you back?” My roommate, Charlotte, peaks into the living room from the kitchen. Her dark brown hair is pulled from her face into a neat bun. I notice the gold lip gloss smeared across her mouth and the taupe flats in her hand.   
“Yeah, sorry, Char this is Spencer. Are you headed out?” I feel awful for not letting her know we had company before bringing him up here.   
“Nice to meet you Spencer,” she reaches her hand out for him to shake, “I’m just headed to see Ari,” she answers me.   
“Yeah it’s great to meet you,” Spencer gives her a small smile.   
“I probably won’t be back tonight; you know how Ari is. Have fun you two,” She leaves me with a wink that I’m hoping Spencer didn’t see. I turn my focus back to him when I hear the door lock.   
“She seems nice. Who’s Ari? If you don’t mind me asking…” he stumbles over his words.  
“No, it’s cool. She’s Charlotte’s girlfriend. They’re pretty on-again-off-again,” I explain. He smiles and I watch him settle into his seat a little more. A few moments pass of us just starring at our drinks before one of us speaks again.  
“So, should we start going over last week’s lecture? I know this first unit is going to be heavily stressed on the exam so it would be pretty helpful to get ahead on this now,” he shuffles through his journal.  
“I feel like if this friendship is going to work, you can’t give me a one up in this class. That’s not quite fair,” I say in of light of a tone as possible, again avoiding eye contact for his reaction to the word ‘friendship.’  
“Then I will just be sure to let everyone in discussion know the same thing next week, just to make sure this is all fair,” he smiles and scoots closer to me. His knee almost touches mine.   
We work for an hour or so on our shared class but eventually I move on to my other classes that he’s not much help with. His head ducks behind his journal. Every once and a while I peak up to see him scribbling something in purple ink. He’s undone his tie; it sits draped over his shoulders like a scarf.  
The longer he spends here, the more comfortable he gets. His feet are now on the cushions, his knees pulled to his chest. I stretch my feet out onto the coffee table and almost knock down our empty mugs.   
“Do you want something else to drink? Water?” My hostess-ness returns. He almost doesn’t hear me he’s so distracted by whatever is in that little book of his.  
“Yeah, water would be great, if you don’t mind,” he looks up.   
I grab some glasses in the kitchen and stare out the window for a moment. What am I doing? I am sitting in my apartment with a man I just met a week ago. I haven’t even had a boyfriend in years, even then it was just a high school relationship. Not to mention, this man was basically my teacher. And I don’t even know if he likes me! I don’t know why I am so bothered by this.  
“Vivian?” Spencer catches me holding two empty glass frozen in the middle of my kitchen. The light in the room is fading as it gets closer to sunset.   
“Sorry,” I shake my head. I head over to the faucet and hand him a full glass of water. My hands tremble when I make contact with his fingertips. He definitely notices this.   
“What’s up? You seem shaken?” His head tilts to the side. I don’t know how to respond. I have to admit it: I am attracted to him and that is just not going to work.   
“Nothing. I lost focus. I think the rest of the stuff I have to do tonight I should be alone for,” I feel bad for kicking him out, but I need to think about this situation I’ve gotten myself into.   
“Yeah I can see myself out. Thank you for having me. See you in class Friday?” I smile at him as I watch him leave.


	6. Make a Move

It’s Monday. I avoided Spencer in class Friday and spent the entire weekend trying to figure out what exactly was going on. I wanted him as a friend but, he is so incredibly sweet. The way he looks, the way he talks, the way he treats me—he could be such an amazing boyfriend.   
Is that what I really wanted? A boyfriend? It had been a long time since I wanted that. It doesn’t even matter if I want that, there are so many other things to consider. Did he like me as more than a friend? Could I even date my TA? This is all too much to worry about when I’m already in one of the busiest semesters of my life.   
Now I’m not normally the person to believe in fate, in signs, but I can’t make this decision on my own. I’m going to let the universe decide, I’m going to let Spencer decide. If he makes a move then it’s meant to be, right?  
I check my appearance in the bathroom mirror before leaving, like I do each morning. My freshly washed curls drape over my shoulders, framing my face. My makeup is light, like it is most school days, but I couldn’t resist packing on a glowy berry toned blush on my nose and cheeks and finishing it off with a matching lip gloss. I dress up for class more than most people due in some weak attempt to keep myself focused on school during the day. My outfit of choice for today includes my favorite black jeans and a lavender and white checkered baggy sweater. I slip on the chunky white fila sneakers that I, unfortunately, wear unironically and head out the door.   
I arrive at Sueñas at 9:30, giving me plenty of time to sit and have my coffee. The line isn’t as bad as it normally is and I’m at a small table by the large windows facing the street within ten minutes. The sweet smell of chai steams out of my coffee cup while I search my bag for my novel.   
“Hey.” I jump at the sound of the voice in front of me, almost knocking over my morning beverage.   
“Oh damn, did I scare you?” It’s Spencer. His hair is messy, like he hadn’t done much to it since waking up. An emerald cardigan covered the vanilla colored t-shirt that graced his torso. He was wearing his white chucks again and I could see bright purple socks with palm trees poking out under his pant leg.   
“Only a little,” I spoke without making eye contact, knowing I’d be sucked into the beauty of his golden eyes.   
“Can I sit?” I nod and he pulls out the chair across from me. It looks like he stuck with his regular order when he sits a steaming hot red eye across from me. Without saying a word, he pulls out his own book, flipping through the pages at an unprecedented speed.   
“Are you actually reading?” I question with a laugh.   
“Yeah, I can read at like 20,000 words per minute.” I think he’s joking but his tone doesn’t waver.  
“You’re serious?” He nods. “You are just some boy genius, aren’t you?” He smiles up at me and I give in, indulging myself in the beauty of his gaze. His eyes stare into my soul and I can’t help feeling more and more vulnerable every second it continues. I don’t look away. Neither does he.   
“Do you want to walk to class together?” He finally breaks.   
“I was already planning on it, Doctor,” I say with a smile. His cheeks glow a bit and he turns his face from mine. We both pack up our things and proceed to the chemistry building.   
The air outside is fresh with a light breeze. You can feel summer fading into fall. Students pile into the diag, rushing towards their next classes. Spencer and I stroll, talking about everything and nothing all at once. I’m enamored by his stories and his random facts. He never seems to run out of something to say. Once we reach the crowded lecture hall, we take our normal spot in the fourth row.   
Moments after Sessions begins her lecture, I lose him to his journal. His endless scribbles almost distract me from the information I’m supposed to be focusing on. Half an hour goes by and I don’t see him look up once. I poke his thigh with my pen, earning a genuinely scared response from him. I can’t hold back a giggle. Sessions glares at me without even breaking her speech. Spencer’s eyes go wide, and I feel the flush creep onto my cheeks. That was awful.   
A moment passes and I hear Spencer chuckle to himself. He’s enjoying this. He likes seeing me flustered. I poke him again without drawing attention to myself and it wipes the smirk right off his face. We push through the last twenty minutes of class and walk out together.   
“You’re going to make me look bad in front of my PI,” he playfully scolds while we walk up the steps of the auditorium.   
“She didn’t even look at you, I’m the one that got the death stare,” I joke. His shoulder brushes against mine as we walk, making me painfully aware of how close we are.   
I turn to him as we exit the room, “Where are you headed now?” I ask.   
“I have some lab time blocked out with Sessions on Mondays, what about you?”  
“I have physics lab in a couple hours. I’ll probably just kill some time in the library until then,” I respond.   
“I guess I’ll see you on Wednesday then, Vivian.” His grin takes up his entire face. He pauses for a moment right when I think he’s going to walk away. I can see the indecisiveness wash across his face briefly before his grin returns and he finally turns his back to me.  
“Yeah, see you around Spence.”  
********  
“Do you only stop by Sueñas on Mondays or something?” Spencer snatches the seat next to me in our lecture Wednesday morning. He sets two coffee cups in front of him.   
“Yeah, actually. It’s a very poor attempt to cut down unnecessary spending,” I reply without looking up from my book.   
“Well, I hope I got this right. Flat white with almond milk?” I look up at him still standing at the end of the row.   
“Spence, you didn’t need to get me this,” I protest.   
“Oh, but I did. I’ve never seen you un-caffeinated and I figured that today is not the day to start.” I can’t believe how sweet he is.   
“I’ll take this now, but I’m buying you lunch after discussion,” I say as I pull the warm cup across the table. He takes his seat, nudging me slightly with his shoulder.   
“We’ll go to lunch, but we’ll see who’s paying later,” he states, smirking down at his journal. I nudge him back as Sessions begins writing on the chalk board. We behave ourselves through the rest of the lecture to avoid another death glare from her.   
The rustle of papers and bags fills the auditorium when Sessions concludes, and Spencer turns to me before packing up.   
“I’ve got to meet with Sessions before discussion, but I’ll see you there.” I nod in response and he’s gone before I can finish packing my bag. I find a spot in the atrium and pull out my novel. I only have fifty or so pages left, the damsel and the hero almost have their happily ever after. Between my laptop and my book, the hour before discussion flies by so I make my way to the small classroom where it’s held.  
“Three weeks into classes, how are we feeling?” Spencer begins his lesson. Some students nod, some hum quiet responses. I notice the girl from last week with her novel sat on her tiny desk. She’s staring him down like he’s her last meal. She’s pretty, I guess. Her short blonde hair is pulled into two small pigtails. She’s wearing a long white t-shirt with a floral dress on top, contrasting the chunky black boots on her feet. Spencer’s gaze meets hers once or twice while he speaks, but it meets mine once or twice too.   
Spencer bids his class farewell and we all begin to collect are belongings. I’m startled by a tap on my shoulder. I turn around, expecting to have to scold Spence for scaring me, but instead I’m met with the hardly intimidating stance of the blonde girl from across the room. She flashes an obviously fake smile up at me.   
“Hey, I’m Kori,” she introduces herself with her arms folded across her chest.   
“Hi Kori, what’s up?” I ask, barely giving her attention.   
“Oh, not much, just asking everyone if they want to be in a study group outside of class. A couple of us are meeting up right now if you’d like to join,” she questions with surprising sincerity.   
“I really appreciate it, but I actually have lunch plans right now. Maybe another time?” I reply.  
“Yeah sure, what’s your name again?” Her tone hinting at harshness again.   
“Vivian,” I say, hesitantly.   
“Well I will see you around, Vivian.” She heads out of the room with some pep in her step and two boys following behind her. I swing my bag over my shoulder and find Spencer waiting outside the door. Kori has struck up a conversation with none other than Dr. Reid.   
“Aw, Doctor,” her fingers twirl her small pigtail, “it’s too bad you have plans right now. Feel free to join us anytime.” His lips are pulled tight as he nods in response. As I turn to face Spencer, I swear I catch her throwing a glare in my direction as she walks off.   
“Where to for lunch?” Spencer asks, clearly unaware of the tension of the fleeting moment. I decide to ignore it due to the rumble in my stomach.   
“Hopcat? I’m dying for a hot chicken sandwich,” I say, only making the pit in my stomach grow.  
“Never been but sounds good to me.” I roll my eyes at his ignorance of the area he lives in.   
We enjoy our lunch with plenty of fry stealing between us. Spencer realizes why I say they have the best fries in Ann Arbor. He ventures out of his comfort zone, getting a burger instead of chicken tenders. When the check finally comes, I snatch it before he even gets a chance to pull out his wallet.   
“This isn’t fair,” he pouts.   
“In the time I’ve known you, you’ve bought me coffee three times and lunch once. It is my turn to pay,” I explain.   
“To be fair, I did not pay for that first coffee I just gave you money to replace the one I ruined,” he argues back.  
“Whatever, I’m paying, and you can’t stop me.” I practically throw the checkbook at the waitress with my credit card inside when she returns. Spencer holds the door as we exit. I almost trip over the steps leading to the sidewalk and he grabs me by the shoulders and pulls me into him.   
“You good?” He giggles as I regain my balance. I’m in shock from his touch. All I can do is nod.   
“Headed back to your apartment now?” He asks, a hand still perched on my shoulder.   
“Mhm,” I manage to mumble out. We walk back down State Street with Spencer’s endless anecdotes as our soundtrack. When we reach the door to my building, he turns to face me.   
“Do you want to come up?” I ask, not wanting to be by myself yet.   
“I do, but I can’t. Sessions calls. There is something I wanted to ask though.” He stares at his feet, waiting for me to respond.   
“Shoot,” I reply.  
“I’m not sure how professional this is, as your TA and all,” oh my God is this happening? “but I really like you. I know you keep talking about how great our friendship could be, but I like you. I want to take you on a real date.” He rushes out his words all at once.   
I’m speechless. I finally decide I’m going to wait for him to make a move and he makes a move. I can’t find the word ‘yes’ so, I simply get on my tip toes and plant a kiss on his cheek. That seems to answer the question for him.


	7. A Real Date

I’m still in shock that I am actually going on a date with Dr. Spencer Reid. I’ve only known him a few weeks, but in that time, I’ve been completely enamored with him. I check myself out in the mirror, wanting to look my very best. Spence says we’re going somewhere nice, but not too nice, so I dressed myself in a black, sleeveless blouse, bright coral slacks, and basic black pumps.   
I lean into the mirror and touch up my lip gloss. I decided on a bolder eye look for tonight, painting on a dark brown half cut crease. When I hear the knock on my door, I’m excited and scared all at once.   
I open the door to find Spencer in a nude colored button down. His hands are shoved in the pockets of his black slacks. He traded his normal white chucks for all black dress chucks. His hair is neatly pulled from his face, I suspect bobby pins are keeping it in place. His face is garnished with a shy smile.   
“Let me grab my stuff, give me one second,” I hurry to grab my phone, wallet, and lip gloss from my bed. Spence gently grabs my hand as I close the door behind me. Locking his fingers in mine, he turns to look at me.   
“You look amazing,” his face is glowing with happiness.   
“Thanks Spence, you don’t look half bad yourself.” I can feel the awkwardness coming on in my voice. I try to control it and hope he doesn’t notice. It appears I am successful when he begins spouting random facts about crystals.  
“Where did you learn all of this stuff? I swear, you never run out of new things to teach me,” I tease.   
“It’s all just stuff I’ve read in my free time. I have a knack for picking up random facts,” he explains.   
“I’ve read plenty, but I sure can’t relay it all back the way you can boy genius.” We both laugh.  
“If you want to be technical about it, I have an eidetic memory,” he states, in a matter of fact way. I think he’s joking but he doesn’t join me in laughing.   
“You’re serious?” He nods. It makes sense, he really never runs out of things to say.   
We continue walking and read Main Street. Spencer stops in front of a building, lined with neatly groomed shrubbery and fairy lights. The sign reads Frida’s illuminated in white.   
“I’ve always heard about this place, but I haven’t gotten a chance to try it,” I say.   
“Me too. Plus, I’ve been craving fish tacos lately so I figured tonight would be a great night to get some.” He leads me to the door.   
“Hi I um… I have a reservation for two. Reid,” Spencer says weakly to the red headed hostess. She nods and grabs two menus, leading us to a table next to the large window facing out to Main Street.   
“Window seats are always my favorite. I’m definitely a people watcher,” I tell Spence as he pulls my chair out for me. He’s such a gentleman.   
“I agree. It’s so weird to think that everyone walking out there has lives as complex as our own. Of course, it makes sense that they do but so much of the time we’re only worried about ourselves and what’s important to us. It’s great to be able to stop and think that the world isn’t as simple as we make it seem,” he says to me while thumbing through the menu. His insight oozes off him, it’s like he doesn’t even have to try.   
“Hi guys, my name is Reyna and I’ll be serving you tonight,” a tall girl with a heavy Mexican accent introduced herself, “can I get you guys started with any drinks? Margaritas are two for one all night,” she suggests.   
“Let’s do two margaritas,” Spencer says with surprising confidence. I glare at him; he knows I’m only twenty.   
“Great I’ll just need to see your IDs,” she asks. I’m flustered trying to grab my wallet out of my pocket. Spencer quickly hands his to Reyna and she examines it closely.   
“I’ll have those right up,” she says, handing it back to him. She walks away before I even open my wallet.   
“Lucky me,” I shrug, and he laughs.  
“Do you drink or was I being presumptuous?”   
“I’ve been known to enjoy a beverage from time to time,” I respond, not wanting him to think I’m a binge drinker. He laughs as if he can see right through me.   
“What?” I giggle back.   
“Nothing, I was just picturing you drunk,” he replies.   
“Dr. Reid, how dare you?” I fake a scold. In a matter of time, our drinks arrive, garnished with salt and a lime. We both take a sip and wince.   
“I see you aren’t much of a drinker either,” I tease his reaction.   
“Hey, I just figured we needed some social lubricant,” he jokes. We both knock back two drinks before our food arrives. Spencer orders fish tacos, like he was craving, and I go for carne asada. Another drink later and we’re both tipsy. Spencer gets very bubbly, making lame jokes that only he understands. I laugh along because everything is funny three drinks in. We order fried ice cream for dessert, paired with another round of drinks. It’s a good thing we walked because we are in no state to drive right now.   
“Did you know… did you know,” Spencer stutters. He walks beside be back to my apartment. He keeps squeezing my hand and pushing me towards the storefronts.   
“Spence, walk straight please,” I laugh.   
“But did you know that the average person will spend six months, six months, waiting for red lights to turn green,” he randomly spouts.   
“Sir, I have spent six months waiting for you to get me home safely. You keep tripping over yourself.” This makes him laugh even harder. We approach my building doors and he waits for me to swipe my card. I interlock my fingers in his while holding the door open with my foot. I hear the magnetic lock clicking back into place.   
“Spencer, dear, please accompany me up to my apartment,” I give him the biggest, goofiest smile I can manage.   
“Well, Vee, my darling, I will walk you to your door, but I am afraid it would not be wise for me to stay very long.” I pout.   
“At least stay until you sober up a little bit.” He nods in agreement and ride the elevator up to the fourth floor. As I approach the door, I hear music playing.   
“Char must be home, maybe it’s best if you go now. She can be nosey.” Now he pouts at me.   
“I guess,” he stresses out the word, “but I want you to go on another date with me next Friday.”  
“Of course, I will, text me and we will work out the details.”  
His smile is so pure in his inebriated state. His eyes squint ever so slightly, making me notice he’s lacking his glasses. His skin is soft with a pale glow to it. The warm lighting in the hallway frames his slender face, highlighting his sharp cheek and jaw bones. He delicately grasps my hand, bringing it to meet his lips. The soft touch graces my knuckles before I turn away.


	8. Movie Night

It’s Friday night again. A whole week has passed since our last date and I’d be lying if I said we weren’t making googly eyes at each other every chance we got. I even skipped his discussion and went to one with another TA as to keep the rest of the class from catching on to anything. That earned me a stern FaceTime call with Dr. Reid, reminding me that we should practice being professional around each other if we want to continue going out. We met for coffee on Monday like usual and had lunch at my apartment on Wednesday—grilled cheese sandwiches.   
But, it’s Friday night again. Date night. I spent the entire week looking forward to some quality time with this man. He decided we should do a movie night at his place considering he’s been to my apartment three times and I’ve never seen his natural habitat. In the morning, he told me to wear sweats and asked me what my favorite candy was.   
I approach his door, the one with a golden ‘9C’ engraved on it. I go to send him a text alerting him that I’ve arrived, but I decide to go the old fashion route and knock. He opens the door with a wide grin. He’s dressed in a pastel tie dye hoodie that is clearly two sized two big for him, and gray shorts that sit low on his hips. He notices my eyes tracing up and down his body and smirks at me. I pull my gaze away from him to shield myself from his accusing look.   
He welcomes me in, and I observe his small living room. He has a small couch covered in quilted pillows. The back wall is lined with bookshelves that house novels, textbooks, and various knick-knacks, my favorite being a bright yellow teddy bear perched on the top shelf.   
The TV is glowing with the title of the movie he chose, Cabin in the Woods. I normally hate scary movies, but he sounded so excited to watch it on the phone.   
“I got extra butter popcorn, Reece’s pieces, and I made a pitcher of Arnold palmer,” he says, walking back into the living room with a crowded tray.   
“Sounds perfect,” I reply. He takes a seat on the couch and gestures for me to join him. I try and make myself comfortable but I’m not sure how much physical contact he’s okay with.   
“Come here,” he opens his arms wide to pull me in. I rest my head on his chest and everything feels perfect. He hits play on the TV and I am immediately on edge. He can tell; he squeezes me a little tighter and starts drawing shapes on my arm with his finger.   
“You really don’t like scary movies do you,” he chuckles.   
“What gave it away?” I look up into his soft brown eyes, his face displaying genuine concern for me.  
“I think I’m going to have your nail marks imprinted in my skin for a week,” he jokes. Suddenly, his eyes go wide, and he seems embarrassed of what he just said. I can’t control my laughter despite the creepy scenes flashing across Spencer’s TV. A loud bang coming from the TV snaps me out of it and I bury my face in his hoodie. It smells like vanilla and buttered popcorn.  
“Here,” he says, pulling me closer to him, “I’ve seen this movie twenty times. I will hold you close, just like this, and I’ll cover your eyes whenever something scary is about to happen.” His voice is just a whisper, immediately having a calming effect on my racing pulse. His fingers pull a small piece of my hair behind my ear and I feel safe again.  
I look up at him, his eyes trained on the television screen. You would think he wouldn’t be so entertained by a movie he’s seen so many times, but he seems completely entranced. The movie goes silent and his hand moves to my head, slowly pushing it toward his chest. I screw my eyes shut and hear the screams on the TV. I’m almost scared again, but I manage to keep my focus on the pretty boy in pastels pulling me towards his heart.   
After another hour of stuffing my face with popcorn and peanut butter candies and hiding in the arms of the lovely Dr. Reid, the movie finally comes to an end. Spence laughs at the giant sigh of relief I expel.   
“So, how was it?” He taunts. All I do to respond is give him a pouty face, making him chuckle.   
“If I never watch another horror movie in my life, I’ll be okay with it.” He fakes an offended expression, gasping and clutching his chest.   
“Hush, you liked it,” he states with too much confidence. I shake my head vigorously.   
“Or maybe,” he starts, “you just liked having your face in my hoodie,” he finishes with a smirk.  
“Shut up,” I blush.   
He stands to clear the coffee table. I stretch out on the couch and reach for my phone that had been resting on the floor throughout the movie. It’s past midnight. Char has left me several messages asking when I’ll be back. I let her know our movie just ended so she can expect me home anytime, but there’s no need to wait up. Knowing her, she’ll be up until four in the morning anyway.   
I hear the ever so graceful Dr. Reid drop our plastic cups on the ground in the kitchen, the material tapping across the linoleum for a few seconds before finally resting. He can hear my giggles from the living room, prompting him to respond,   
“Shut up.” I can hear the smile in his voice.  
After the commotion I hear another sound. Spence is humming along to a song in his head. It takes me a moment, but I recognize the melody. It’s one of my favorites, Northern Downpour. I start humming to myself, hoping Spencer can’t hear and embarrass me for being tone deaf.  
After some more clanking around in the kitchen, Spencer emerges with splashes of water on his clothes. He really is too clumsy for his own good. He comes back to the couch and curls up around the armrest.   
The room is silent for a moment. Stock photos flash across the television screen before going dark, leaving us illuminated by the apple cinnamon candle burning in the corner of the room. Spencer just stares at me. I wait for him to speak, I can see the words on the tip of his tongue, but he holds them in. I pull myself up, sitting with my legs crossed on the middle of the couch.   
Spencer’s lips part slightly; I can’t bring myself to look away from them. His hair twists in every direction after laying on the couch for two hours sheltering me. His eyes are slightly hooded due to the late hour. A small amount of stubble peppers his chin, making him look the perfect amount of unkempt.   
It feels like hours pass before something happens again. Spencer keeps his gaze on me, but he won’t look into my eyes. I see something brewing behind his golden irises. I pick at the skin on my thumb, not knowing what to do. I love the way he’s looking at me, but I wish I knew what it meant.   
Finally, he breaks the tension in the room. I feel the palm of his hand graze my cheek and his eyes meet mine. He brings my face to his and our lips meet.


	9. Yes, Doctor

His lips feel like rose petals and his breath still tastes of peanut butter. His hands fit perfectly on my cheek and in my hair. I’m surprised he can’t feel my heart beating through my chest with how close we are. His kisses get more and more hungry as we move with each other on his couch. My breath hitches when his hand moves to the bare skin on my waist, revealed from my sweatshirt riding up.  
He notices, “are you okay?”  
I’m so lost in the moment all I can do is nod. His hair is a mess, pointing in every direction but still pulled back on his face. His hoodie envelopes him so that I can barely see the gray athletic shorts he has on. His skin glows with the little sweat we created in the heat of our moment. All I want to do is stare in the beautiful pools of honey that sit in his eyes. They’re so perfectly illuminated by the candlelight in the room.   
“Did you want to kiss me?” He mistakes my distraction for hesitance.   
I try to answer with a nod, but he withdraws himself when I do. He leans back and settles onto the other side of the couch. I sit for a moment. I shouldn’t want this as bad as I do but the look of wistful innocence on his face is so damn attractive. He’s not looking at me like he’s about to get laid, he’s looking at me like I’m the only thing in the world that matters.   
Fuck it. I need him. He’s so good to me and I deserve to care about something more than school or work. I brush my fingers over his hand, causing his gaze to meet mine. I slowly pull myself to straddle him.  
“Spence…” We lock eyes and I graze the stubble on his face, “I want you.”  
Without hesitation, his mouth is on mine again. His teeth pull on my bottom lip while I snake my arms around his neck. He leaves kisses down my jaw as his hands find their place on my hips. We move together perfectly for what seems like ages but the longer it goes on the more I need. I know he needs it too. I can feel the tension growing between us.   
I know he won’t make the first move. It took him long enough to kiss me in the first place. I want this and I deserve this. I deserve him. I shift my hips down his lap and I can feel him squirm underneath me. His breath hitches and he almost stops kissing me.   
“Don’t stop now,” I giggle, trying to lighten the mood before I dare to take this next step, “don’t you want to show me to your room?” I run my thumb over his cheek bone, I want him to know how much he means to me.   
“Whatever you’d like.” I can tell he’s nervous. I grab his hand as he leads me to his bedroom door. His walls are covered in posters, art, and maps. At the foot of his bed is a pile of books, novels and textbooks, all worn past repair. His bed is nicely made with a dark green comforter and a matching quilt at the foot.   
I sit on the edge, waiting for him to join me. He comes around behind me and lays down, pulling the blankets up to his chin. I take this as an invitation to crawl in next to him. My arms wrap around his neck and his wrap around my waist. We just stare at each other, neither of us daring to break the silence of a perfect moment.   
But it has to end to get to the next one. I kiss him. Hot and fast. His hands are all over me, running up my shirt and playing with the waistband of my sweats. I trace shapes on his cheek as we sink further and further into each other. His movements inch my top up so I decide to remove it all together.   
He stares at me again with his hand resting on the small of my back. The covers are now pushed towards the foot of the bed and we can each see the mess we have made of each other. The sweat, the wrinkled clothes, all on the way to a night we will never forget.   
His eyes linger on my chest, his fingers fumble at the lace that’s barely keeping me from exposing myself to him completely.   
“You are stunning.” His voice is quiet as if this is a secret he must share with me. I shy away from his words, but his fingers push my chin up to meet his eyes.  
“Gorgeous, phenomenal, amazing, beautiful,” he rushes out all at once, “Vivian I have wanted to tell you all of this since the first conversation we ever had. I know you’re special and I want you to know it too.”  
I can’t sit still and take his praise. The best way I can think to thank him is to pull the baggy tie dye hoodie from his narrow frame and pull his body on top of mine. He sucks at my collar bone while his fingers play with my nipple. I can’t help but let out a small gasp. When he hears it, he looks up at me again. His lips crash onto mine and he pushes his hips between my legs.   
I feel him growing against me every second we keep kissing. I pull him back to my side and run my fingers under the waistband of his boxers. His lips, still pressed against mine, stop moving. I brush my palm over his shorts and his head falls away from me with a moan.   
I slide his shorts and boxers, batman boxers, down to the foot of the bed. His body lay completely exposed to me now, revealing just how ‘gifted’ he was. I pull his face back to mine while gripping his shaft, slowly massaging him. He moans into my mouth as I speed up.   
“This is…” he mumbles out, “this is so good Vee.” His praise adds fuel to the fire already growing in my own pants. I pull away and sit up. His face drops from the loss of contact. Standing up, I slowly peal the sweatpants from my body. His eyes go wide as I pull my bralette off. I kneel at the foot of the bed and lay myself between his legs. I can see how eager he his, staring past his erection and into his eyes.   
“Vee, are you sure about this?” He asks with genuine concern. I grip the base of his cock and gently kiss the tip.  
I lock eyes with him, “yes, Doctor.” Something feral awakens inside me as I take him in my mouth. His panting only adds to my desire. I bob my head up and down, swirling my tongue around him. Curses fall from his lips as I continue. His hands tug on the roots of my hair.   
When I come up for air, he pulls me back up to his mouth. He’s finally relaxed and completely turned on. This isn’t the Spencer I sat next to in lectures and watched teach every week in discussion. He wasn’t even the Spencer I waited for at Sueñas every Monday. This was a man who was clearly ready to fuck me until I couldn’t walk in the morning.   
His hand slides between my legs, pushing my panties over. His fingers dip in the growing pool of wetness. My breathing gets heavier and heavier as he slides two fingers in and out of me. Each thrust hits a deeper and deeper spot.   
He moves himself so that he is sitting on his knees with my legs draped over each thigh. He slides my panties off my legs and tosses them across the room. His face meets mine again but this time he kisses up to my jaw and whispers in my ear,   
“Call me Doctor again.” His raspy voice is free of any hesitation he had before.   
“Why don’t you just fuck me already, Doctor?” I play into his fantasy. His pupils swallow the golden of his eyes.   
“Oh, baby, I have a little more in store for you before I can do that.”  
His face moves between my legs, pushing my knees to my chest. His tongue is magical, swirling and sucking in all the right places. When he slides his fingers in while sucking my bundle of nerves, I can’t help but let out a high pitch moan.   
“Doctor…” I exhale, “Spence.” He looks up at me with his fingers still thrusting inside me.   
“That was so sexy,” he breaths. His hand pulls my face to his and we melt into each other.   
“Spence… I want you… I need you,” I say in between kisses.   
“Say less, baby.” He pushes one of my knees to my chest and puts the other leg on his shoulder. He rubs his tip down my slit before slowly pushing into me. Slowly, he fills me. My eyes screw shut at the friction and my mouth falls open. This is met with a wet kiss that sloppily trails down to my neck. The pleasure only increases as his pace quickens. His face falls into the crook of my neck, filling my ears with the sounds of his grunts.  
“Oh my God… you feel… perfect,” he breathes in between thrusts. Every consecutive one bringing me closer and closer to my edge. My nails trail down his back as he continues to pour into me, going faster and faster, harder and harder.   
“Spence, baby, I’m close,” I tell him in a breathless voice. “Let me ride you, baby.” I whisper into his ear. He slows his pace before pulling out of me completely.   
He rolls over onto his back, pulling himself up to sit up slightly on his pillows. His eyes stay locked on me, tracing up and down my body. I flip over to straddle him. I can feel him hard, throbbing between my legs, resting just outside of my entrance. Not wanting to waste any more time, I sink my lips down onto his, losing myself in a hungry kiss that takes over my entire body. His hands snake into my hair, pushing my face closer to his.  
Pulling away, I sit up tall, keeping my eyes on his face. His gaze sinks down to my hips, his hands resting gently on my ass. I lift myself up and slowly lower myself onto his stiff member, this position making me ever aware of how big he is.   
I see his eyes roll back into his head as I start to bounce, slowly at first, but speeding up every second. His grip on my ass tightens, ensuring I’ll have red marks in the morning. I maintain control for a few minutes before Spence decides it’s his turn. His arms pull my chest to his and his hips thrust to meet mine.   
I nip at his ear, whispering encouragement, making sure he knows he’s doing everything perfectly.  
“Oh Doctor, you know how to fuck me just right.” These words inspire him to push even harder, eliciting a sharp moan from me. I can feel my orgasm rising in my stomach. I grind my hips down on his, creating the perfect amount of friction that sends me over the edge. I finish with a long moan in his ear.  
He slows his thrusts, allowing me to softly grind against him as I ride out my high. After a moment, he slides out of me again, adjusting to the perfect position to get his release. I rest on my forearms, facing the foot of the bed, arching my back so that my hips meet his.   
He doesn’t hesitate, pushing in and quickening his pace immediately. The room is filled with the sound of my moans and skin slapping skin. He leans over to knead my breasts and fill my ears with dirty words.   
“You feel amazing gripped around me,” he says, his thrusts getting sloppier, “you’re going to make me come all over your perfect ass.” I still can’t believe it’s Spencer speaking to me, fucking me like this.   
Within minutes, he pulls out and I feel the warm fluid cover my back. I hear curses under his breath as he takes his time to finish. I twist my head around to see the sexy look that graces his face as he comes down.   
I crawl back up to the head of the bed and Spencer meets me, pulling me into a warm embrace.


	10. After Care

The feeling of his skin on mine is different now. Before it sent electricity down my spine, now it was calming every nerve. Spence was breathing slowly, on the edge of falling asleep, every breath cascading down my neck. His arms are wrapped tightly around my waist and his legs are tangled with mine.   
I feel Spencer’s body settle as he drifts off, me following shortly.   
*****  
I’m jolted awake by the sound of my phone vibrating. The sun blinds me through the window of the unfamiliar room I found myself in. Rubbing the sleepiness out of my eyes, I examine my surroundings. The night before floods back into my memories—the way Spence spoke to me, the way he touched me, the way he held me.   
I sink into the pillows surrounding me, almost forgetting about the irritating noise coming from the dresser. I reach for my phone to find six missed calls from Char.   
Sliding across the screen, I answer with a mumbled, “Hello?”  
“Jesus Christ, Viv, I thought you were in someone’s trunk or fucking dead? Where the hell are you?” She practically screams in my ear.   
“Okay, sweetie, I’m obviously not dead or in some perv’s trunk. I’m just at a friend’s place, I fell asleep before I could tell you I wouldn’t be back.” I winced calling Spencer ‘a friend’ but I really didn’t know what else to call him. Speaking of Spencer, where was he?  
“Char, I’ll be back later today. I promise I will text you this time if anything changes,” I say.  
“Okay, be safe.” She hangs up.   
Both Spencer’s and my clothes are still scattered across the floor and the bed. I grab the large tie dye hoodie I spent the previous night admiring and pull it over my body, along with my underwear from the night before. I breathe in the warm scent that Spence left on his sweatshirt, intoxicating.  
I peak my head outside the bedroom door to see Spencer curled up in his armchair with a mug and a book. He doesn’t notice me until I fully remove myself from behind the door.  
“You’re up,” he says with the sweet, innocent smile I’ve grown accustomed to. He sets his book and mug on the coffee table before grabbing my hand and pulling me on to his lap.   
“Well, good morning to you too,” I say through a laugh. He’s dressed in black joggers and a white crew neck sweatshirt that has a graphic of a banana on it. I smile at his goofy choice in clothing. His glasses slid down the bridge of his nose, sitting right at the tip, from sitting in his reading position.  
“You look really good in that, you should keep it,” he says, pinching the fabric sitting on my hips.   
“Oh, please, keeping hoodies is for girlfriends,” I joke. A confused look appears on his face, followed by a small frown. This prompts a similar reaction on my face.   
“I kind of, um,” he stutters, “I kind of thought you were my girlfriend.” His voice is barely more than a whisper. I calm his nerves by placing a soft kiss on his lips. When I pull away, I see the blush settle on his cheeks.  
“I just wanted to make sure you wanted me to be your girlfriend before I started doing things like stealing your clothes,” I smile at him.  
“Well, you didn’t feel the need to make sure you were my girlfriend before you had your mouth on my dick last night, did you?” He whispers into my ear.  
“Are you calling me a whore?” I fake a gasp.   
“Shut up,” he laughs and gently pushes me off his lap, “let me get you some coffee.” He shuffles into the kitchen. I take this time to stretch myself out on Spence’s couch. He comes back with a large mug, reading “World’s Greatest Grandpa,” filled to the brim with hot coffee.  
“Where did you get that fine china?” I admire the cup.  
“This whole place is furnished from secondhand shops. Cheaper and more personality. Besides, a mug is a mug, right?” He explains.  
“I certainly think you are the world’s greatest grandpa.” I take a sip of the hot coffee. He’s got an excellent taste; the roast is definitely something premium.  
“Do you have any plans today?” He asks while playing footsie with me from the other side of the couch.   
“Ermmm… probably just studying I didn’t really have anything else planned,” I respond. I see his cheeks become slightly rosy before he speaks,   
“Do you want to hang out here today? I mean, you can study here, I’ve got some work to do to, but I’d really like your company. I can make you brunch and everything.” All his words come out jumbled and flustered. It’s adorable.  
“I’d love to, Spence. I’ll just need to go back by my apartment to grab my books and everything. Right now, though, let me help you with brunch. Do you have stuff for French toast?” I look forward to observing Spence in his natural habitat.   
“Of course I do,” he says with a big grin.  
I go to stand up and am immediately pulled back down, tumbling into Spencer’s lap.  
“I thought we were going to make brunch,” I say in a fit of giggles.   
“Let me cuddle you first, we can watch an episode of the Office or two.” He laces is arms around my waist and places a soft kiss behind my ear.   
“How did you know I like the Office?” I ask.  
“Everyone likes the Office,” he reasons. We adjust ourselves on the couch and I feel like I could stay in Spence’s warm embrace forever. Our fingers interlock and I feel him squeeze my hand periodically during our Office binge.   
After three episodes I finally convince him to let me up and start making brunch.  
“Let me make it, let me treat you.” He tries to pull me back down.   
“You have to get off the couch to do that,” I argue.   
“Let me get up, but you have to stay here.” He easily shifts my weight down onto the couch. I bounce right back up.  
“Okay, I won’t help, you win that one. At least let me shower while you get it ready.”  
Spencer shows me to the bathroom and lends me a beige towel and wash cloth and some stolen hotel body wash, saying he thought I wouldn’t want to ‘smell like a boy’ using his. He was right. His bathroom was surprisingly well kept for a single guy in his twenties, but not all that surprising now that I’ve gotten to know him. I waste no time getting undressed and letting all of the sweat and…fluids from last night wash down the drain.  
Stepping out into the steam filled bathroom, I find that Spencer has left me a pair of Star Wars pajama bottoms and a Pink Floyd t-shirt. Adorable.  
Exiting the bathroom in my stylish attire, I immediately smell Spencer’s cooking filling the apartment.  
“That smells so good, Spence,” I say, peaking my head into the kitchen.  
“You look so good in that,” he laughs, and I swat him on the shoulder.   
“They’re your clothes, blame yourself,” I retaliate.  
“I was being serious!” He defends. I stare at him blankly. “Whatever. Sit down, it’s almost ready. Do you need a coffee refill?”  
“Of course,” I respond, taking a seat at his small dining table. We sit there, eating cinnamon French toast sticks with fruit and bacon, sipping on coffee, until mid-afternoon. I finally tear myself away from Spencer to grab my books from my apartment while he showers. In no time, I’m back in his quaint residence, admiring the boy wonder as he grades papers at an abnormal speed.   
“Why are you staring at me like that?” He asks without looking up.   
“You’re just cute.”


	11. The First Exam

Monday morning comes all too soon. Getting out of bed is extra difficult and I end up laying down, scrolling through twitter, fifteen minutes after my alarm has gone off. I go through my normal routine getting ready. The days keep getting cooler as we head into October, so I opt for my thermal leggings and throw a denim jacket on over my new tie dye hoodie, finishing off my look with classic black and white vans.   
I make sure to arrive at Sueñas with plenty of time to share a coffee with Spencer. When I get there, I quickly spot him at a table in the corner of the crowded room, hunched over a stack of papers I assume he’s grading. I see two disposable cups in front of him, so I don’t bother finding a spot in line.   
“Stop buying me coffee, nerd,” I greet him ever so kindly.   
“Give me back my hoodie then,” he responds when he sees my attire.   
“Never.” I take the seat across from him and pull out my laptop to finish up some work I neglected over the weekend. Even after I picked up my books to bring back to Spencer’s, there was no way I could focus when my new boyfriend was sitting across the room from me looking so delightful immersed in his studies. By the time I could convince myself to leave, the lure of the Saturday nigh social scene kept me from getting anything else done. On Sunday I couldn’t even leave my bed until one in the afternoon.   
I only get a good ten minutes worth of work before we leave to get to our lecture. This time we walked, hand in hand, all the way to the building. When we get to the entrance, we both look down at our interlocked fingers and then back at each other. His eyes say it all. I reluctantly let go of him, not wanting the entire chemistry department to know what’s going on between us.  
My time in lecture is spent subconsciously worrying that I’m being too friendly with Spence in front of the entire room, especially Professor Sessions. I’m not even doing anything unusual, but I’m constantly afraid that I’m sitting too close or that my hand is about to brush upon his.   
Spencer, however, seems unphased. Just like always, his head is buried in his journal and the pages soaked with purple ink.   
“Remember class, our first exam of the term is this Thursday. Be prepared; you’re going to want a good grade on this one to make up for any difficulties you may have with more complex material later on,” Sessions reminds the lecture hall as we all pack up our bags.   
“Are you ready for the exam? We can have a study date soon if you want,” Spencer offers, his voice growing small as he speaks.   
“I’ll let you know, I normally do my best studying alone, but it can’t hurt to consult the expert,” I joke.   
“I won’t be an expert until I finish this PhD,” he responds. We walk up the steps of the auditorium and out into the atrium, careful to keep a safe distance between us.   
“I’m on my way to a lab meeting now, but I’ll catch you later Vee.” He flashes me his award-winning smile.   
“Yeah, sure thing, have fun,” I respond.   
I see Spence survey the area, taking note of the dozens of students crowding the building yet not paying attention to us. Swiftly, before I can even realize it happened, he places a small peck on my cheek to see me off. I’m left standing in the middle of the atrium with a flush on my cheeks that I cannot hide.   
*****  
“Please keep your exam booklet closed until told otherwise. Make sure your student ID is face up on the table and that your pencils are sharpened now,” the exam proctor booms from the front of the room.   
I’ve always been a good test taker, that’s probably how I got into the University of Michigan in the first place. I’ve also always loved chemistry, which made it easy to learn and to study for. However, there was something about this class that was not clicking with me. I spent the entirety of last night buried in textbooks, study guides, and YouTube videos, hoping I could teach myself what I had failed to learn in class.   
To make matters worse, Spencer called me around eleven to see how my studying was going and offer help, but of course the lure of his voice and conversation kept us from getting anything productive done. I didn’t hang up on him until after midnight with still another chapter to review before I would feel even a little confident with the exam material.  
Unfortunately, I couldn’t change the past now. What I knew was what I knew.   
“You may now open your exams, good luck,” the proctor instructs. At first glance, the first page is gibberish. I skim through to disappointingly find that the entire exam seems to be that way. I sigh to myself and try to take in the words on the page one at a time, hoping that my brain will somehow come up with a solution to the problem staring me in the face.   
An hour of the ninety minutes pass and I’ve finished most of the exam. Is it right? Who cares, I answered the questions and I’m banking on partial credit to save my grade. I have one page left when my attention is drawn to the front of the lecture hall filled with students buried in their papers scribbling. A few other heads perk up as the side entrance to the room creeks open and another TA sneaks in. My attention is fully stolen when I realize that TA is my boyfriend.   
It doesn’t take him long to meet my gaze, flashing me his award-winning smile and discreetly giving me a thumbs up, keeping his fist at his side. I smile back to let him know he has my attention and it takes me way too long that he shouldn’t. He quickly speaks to my proctor before exiting as tactful as he entered.   
The proctor calls the five-minute warning as I’m scrawling out the final explanation that I felt the need to include. This exam did not go as well as I hoped for. I will definitely have to buckle down in this class for the rest of the semester, or at least until the next exam. When the proctor calls time, I hand in my work without bothering to check it over. I find Spencer waiting outside of the lecture hall for me.   
“Hey, babe, how’d it go?” He speaks in a hush tone, knowing a handful of his students are within earshot of us.   
“Not as well as I would have liked. Lucky me I have the world’s best tutor for next time,” I answer him. We shuffle out of the chemistry building, interlocking our fingers once we’re sure we’re a safe distance from any other students and faculty.   
“After exams, I always go out for bubble tea. It’s a nice treat for all my hard work. Although, I am afraid I didn’t work as hard as I should have for this one,” I tell Spence.   
“I have no idea what bubble tea is and I’m honestly not sure I want to know.” I stare at him in shock. How has this man lived in Ann Arbor for a full year and not had bubble tea. There’s literally a shop on every block. I practically make us jog to my favorite place, ChaTime, partly because of the cold, but also because of how urgently he needs to try this beverage. He chuckles the whole way as I pull his reluctant self behind me.  
“Two banana milk teas with pearls, please,” I order for the both of us. I already had my debit card out so that I could beat Spencer to paying. After a few minutes, we grab or drinks and take a seat in front of the wall covered in fake foliage and neon lights.   
“You look so cute in front of this, it’s a great backdrop,” he notices, pulling his phone out of his jacket pocket. I’m quick to cover my face with my drink as he snaps a picture of me, knowing that I look like a wreck after such a long day.   
“I still got part of your face, and I can see those gorgeous brown eyes, so this one is a keeper.” He sets the picture as his lock screen. My heart melts a little. I snap back to reality when I realize he’s been avoiding trying his tea.   
“Drink up, baby, you’ll love it,” I tease him. Hesitantly, he brings the straw up to his lips. My attention lingers there as he slowly sips up a few of the tapioca pearls. A thousand different emotions flash across his face as he bites down, making me burst out in a fit of laugher.   
“What’s your rating?” I inquire.  
“The tea is a ten, I love bananas. The pearls,” he starts, still chewing on one, “I could live without, but I don’t hate them.”   
I fake disappointment, clutching my chest, “those are the best part!” I argue. “Next time, I guess you can get them without.” I give him a small pout and he reaches for my hand. He places a small kiss on my fingertips before returning to his drink.


	12. Losing Focus

“It wasn’t an awful average for the first exam, 72.38%, pretty typical. There were some common mistakes I’d like to go over with you all because, I promise, this stuff is not going away anytime soon,” my boyfriend introduces his discussion for this week. He looks so handsome today, wearing a white button down with khaki slacks and a pastel green necktie adorned with little shooting stars.   
As I assumed, my exam the week before did not go well. I got a 65%--the worst I had ever done on an exam, not only in my college, but in my entire educational career. I had been kicking myself for not focusing on the material more while it was being taught since I got my grade back a few days before. Spencer assured me he would make sure I was ready for the next exam. I didn’t want to take advantage of his position, but he promised he wouldn’t give me any help he wouldn’t give to any other student.   
Right now, my focus slipped away from Dr. Reid’s discussion of particle physics to the way his mouth moved when he lectured. Each word perfectly enunciated, his tongue brushing against his lips and teeth. He hadn’t shaved in a few days, leaving his face peppered with stubble that was so sexy. The veins in his hands appeared subtly as he gestured to emphasize the point he was making. My thoughts drifted to the way those hands felt on me, tracing down my back, peeling off my clothing, gently squeezing my neck.   
I finally snap out of my trance when the guy sitting next to me gets up. I had daydreamed away the entire lecture. Only two students lingered when Spencer approached my desk while I haphazardly shoved my laptop in my bag.   
“I’m sorry again that I can’t make our lunch date today, but we’re still on for Friday, right?” His voice soft, as it normally is when there’s other people around.   
“Of course, I’m excited. Do you ever plan on telling me where exactly we’re going?” He shakes his head with a big smirk on his face. Now, the two girls had left, leaving us alone in the room. I stand up, ready to head to the library to make up for the important information I missed while I was absorbed in the idea of my boyfriend touching me. Before I can pick up my bag, he grabs my wrist and snakes his arm around my waist.  
“You’re so beautiful,” he starts, staring deep into my eyes, “sometimes it takes everything in me to not bend you over one of these desks,” he whispers, sending shivers down my spine. My lips are met with a soft yet passionate kiss, putting my always-racing mind at ease for a few moments.   
“I have to go. I saw your exam; you should probably go hit the books instead of staring at my lips while I try to teach.” Heat creeps into my cheeks knowing that he saw me ogling him. He sends me off with a peck on the cheek and a light tap on the butt, making my face glow a brighter red.   
*****   
I spent the rest of Wednesday and all-day Thursday hidden in the corner of my favorite library on campus. Between classes and extra-large red eyes, I tried to teach myself the first third of my quantum mechanics class all over again. Spencer helped a lot, sending me some of the notes he scribbled in purple ink that made much more sense than what I had written. Now I feel much more confident in my abilities. All those hours spent huddled over papers and notebooks reminded me what kind of student I am.   
I’m finally released from my last Friday class when I receive a text from Spencer.   
Can’t wait to see you later. Btw, wear something that you can move in. xx  
He always texted with perfect punctuation and capitalization, his intellect always slipping into his normal conversations. I hadn’t even begun to think about what to wear tonight. All I knew was that he was picking me up and eight and now, that I needed to be able to move.   
I toss my bag on my couch when I enter my apartment, too excited to get ready to bother putting it where it belongs. I always preferred getting ready to go out to actually going out, but with Spencer, both were equally as fun.   
I pull up a chair to my makeup vanity and stare at my reflection in my ring light. I take way too long to do my eyebrows before deciding what to do with my eye makeup. I draw a thick burgundy strip across my lash line that appears to take up my entire lid with my hooded eyes. I do my face makeup with heavy hot pink blush and a soft glowing highlight. Finishing the look, I paint my lips bright red.  
An hour and a half pass while I do my makeup as I kept getting distracted by the playlist of Harry Styles and King Princess I had playing in the background. As always, when I look into my closet to find an outfit, I suddenly hate every piece of clothing I own. I slip on a pair of black pants that flair out at the bottom and tuck a baby pink silk button up into them. I lay out a silver chain and my favorite silver strappy heels with my purse on the coffee table so that I’ll be ready to go when Spencer arrives.   
It’s 7:30, so I make myself a cup of tea and pull out my reading for my English class to keep myself busy while I wait for Spencer’s arrival. I fell behind a bit in my other three classes while trying to catch up in the fourth. Hopefully, I will be back on track by the end of this weekend, I just need to keep my focus on what’s important. Of course, after my date tonight.   
I jump up at the knocking on my door. I almost trip over myself going to answer it. Standing in the doorway is a clean-shaven Spencer with his usual messy waves neatly combed out of his face. He’s wearing jeans, which is very unusual for him, and an off-white polo. I notice a gold chain peaking out under his neckline. My thoughts turn to what it would look like dangling in my face. Of course, he’s wearing his worn, once-white converse with one purple sock and one white sock with cacti on it.   
“I’m ready, I just need to put on some shoes,” I alert him and motion for him to come in. He stands awkwardly in my kitchen while I hook my chain behind my neck and strap on my shoes.   
“Gorgeous as always,” he says as we leave my apartment, placing his hand on my hip and a kiss on the top of my head.   
When we reach the street outside my building, he walks up to an old, emerald green Buick that’s in surprisingly good condition, and opens the passenger door. On the dashboard is a small bouquet of daisies.   
“I can’t believe you have a car in Ann Arbor, where do you park this thing?” I joke, admiring the flowers.   
“Lucky for me, my building offers free parking for residents, so she just lives underground most of the time,” he explains. He takes the flowers off the dash and places them in my lap, squeezing my thigh before turning the ignition.   
The short car ride was full of laughter, random facts, and cheesy music on the radio. We sing along when Girls Just Wanna Have Fun plays on a random station Spencer found. We pull into a small, but packed, parking lot, illuminated by the neon sign glowing on the dingy building. Rollerama, it reads.   
“Roller skating?” I ask. Worry flashes across his face.  
“You don’t like roller skating, do you? I should have made sure before I made plans,” he begins to ramble.  
“No, no, no, Spence,” I interrupt his train of thought with a kiss. “I love roller skating, I’m excited,” I reassure him. When he opens the car door, the interior lights flash on to reveal a smear of red across Spencer’s pink lips. I raise my thumb to his bottom lip, gently wiping away my mess.   
“Hey,” he softly grabs my cheek, bringing my face to his. His lips graze my ear, “when we’re done here, I want that lipstick all over my body.” He smirks seeing how flustered he’s made me.   
I hassle Spencer into letting me pay my own way. I hand my ticket to the skate rental counter, asking for a size ten.   
“Dammit,” I exclaim after the teenage boy behind the counter hands me my skates, “I’m not wearing socks.”  
“Don’t worry, I planned ahead,” Spencer says, holding his own skates in his hands. He reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out one purple sock and one white sock with cacti on it.   
“So, you have matching pairs, but choose to wear them mismatch?” I observe.   
“Absolutely. Life is too exciting to wear matching socks.”  
“That doesn’t even make any sense,” I laugh.   
We take a seat on the bench lining the rink to lace up our skates. I stand up, and despite it being years since the last time I went skating, it’s like riding a bike. Spencer, on the other hand, looks like a baby giraffe. He lurches forward and I’m quick to grab his hips, stabilizing him.   
“You’re the one that wanted to go skating, I assumed you knew how.” He nudges me playfully and tries to stand up again, only to slip and fall back into my arms.   
“Take my hand.” I reach out behind me to feel his sweaty palm meet mine. Dragging him behind me, I pull us toward the floor. Spencer has to hunch over to keep his balance while holding my hand. We go around once, slowly, while a cheesy eighties pop song plays over the speakers. Other couples, parents, kids, college students, circle around us while we stick to the perimeter.   
After three painfully slow laps, Spence finally starts getting the hang of it.   
“Look at you,” I smile like a proud mother as he completes a full lap without holding on to anything.   
“I’m a pro now,” he exclaims. On que, he trips over himself, pulling me down with him. We sit on the floor of the rink for a full minute in a fit of giggles. I pull him up, his hand refusing to leave mine once he’s standing again.   
“How about a quick break?” He suggests. We circle over to the snack bar to order slushies. Spencer gets blue, while I opt for red.   
“I’m not sure how much longer I can handle this, my ankles are killing me,” he says, his tongue stained blue.   
“We’ll only do a couple more laps and then we can leave,” I say, “next time, you should let me plan the date.” He nods in agreement, giving me a goofy smile.  
Walking back to the car, Spencer holds my shoes while I trek the parking lot in his mismatch socks. Like the gentleman he is, he ushers me in to the passenger side. The radio comes to life when he turns the key in the ignition, softly playing Fly Me to the Moon.  
“Your tongue is red,” he alerts me, fiddling the collar of my shirt between his fingers.   
“I needed it to match my lipstick, duh,” I joke. He softly presses his lips to mine, painting his own the same shade of red.   
“That color on you is driving me crazy,” he says, coming in for another kiss. This one is hotter—his teeth graze my bottom lip and his tongue finds mine. His lips trail across my cheek and down my neck, staining us both bright red.   
My lips near his ear and I tempt him, “what if I told you my bra was the same color?”  
His head perks up, his pupils swallowing his gaze.  
“I’d say we better get back to my place quick or else I’ll have to fuck you right here in this car.”  
His words surprise me considering his normally dorky demeanor.   
“Step on it…Doctor,” I say, knowing exactly what it does to him. The ride home is swift, but safe. Spencer’s hand stays locked on my upper thigh, occasionally teasing the growing heat in between my legs, the entire way.   
My face is buried in Spencer’s arm in an attempt to hide the lipstick smudges from anyone lingering his lobby, but as soon as the elevator doors are closed, I’m pushed against the wall and my hands are pinned over my head. Spencer graces my lips with hungry kisses while his hips push his growing erection against my core. We stumble more than walk to his door once we reach the ninth floor. As soon as he pushes his door open, he’s gripping my thighs to lift me. My legs wrap around his torso while pushes my back against his door. His fingers undo the buttons on my top faster than I thought possible.


	13. Nights Like These

I was, by no means, a virgin when I met Spencer, but I wasn’t necessarily experienced either. We hadn’t gotten to the point in our relationship where we discussed our past partners, so I had no idea who taught him the things he doesn’t to me, but whoever it was, I needed to thank them. Spencer’s touch was always so soft, yet so intense it sent sparks down my spine.   
In no time, my blouse is being tossed aside and Spence is ogling at the red lingerie I picked out just in case our night ended this way. The lace material fit snug on my torso, making my breasts pop up in the best way possible. Without removing his lips from my body, Spencer carries me to his bedroom and lightly tosses me on the bed.   
“Sit up,” he says, his breath heavy, “I want to look at you.” His voice has a roughness to it that I don’t hear on our lunch dates or when he lectures the class. I prop myself up on my elbows, locking eyes with him. His fingers slip under my waist band, pulling my pants down to reveal the matching red panties. His jeans tighten even more, prompting his decision to remove them and his shirt.   
His body hovers over mine, covered only by his boxers and the dainty gold chain that rests on his collar bone. His fingers trace the curve of my hips—the small yet passionate gesture putting my body on edge.   
“Spencer,” I lay back, parting my legs slightly, “are you just going to stare at me or are you going to do something about that problem in your pants?” I tease, gently brushing my fingers down his chest.   
“Or maybe,” I pull his face to mine, “you want me to do something about it.”   
Spencer’s tongue explores my mouth as I reach my hand into his boxers. His breath hitches when I slowly slide down his shaft.   
“You’re going to drive me crazy,” he moans into my mouth.  
“I’m going to do so much more.” I pat the bed next to me, silently asking him to lay down. His face and neck are covered in red smudges and I only add to the problem by leaving open mouth kisses down his torso.   
Tossing his boxers aside, my hands return to gently massaging his shaft before licking a stripe down the side of his dick, earning a deep, drawn out moan from Spencer. All he can manage are grunts and curses as I bob my head up and down, his dick twitching with every move. His hips buck up slightly, causing him to push toward the back of my throat. I use my hand to massage whatever I can’t fit in my mouth, making Spencer’s eyes roll back in his head.   
“Fuck, princess,” he sighs, out of breath, “I’m so close.”  
I come up for a breath, my hands still working with the lubrication left behind by my mouth.   
“I like that,” I whisper in his ear, “now why don’t you finish down my throat if you’re so close.”  
Spencer’s head falls back, his hips slowly thrusting his erection into my mouth. Between the sucking and the swirl of my tongue, Spencer comes to the edge, filling my mouth with a warm, salty liquid. Swallowing first, I lean in to kiss him and I’m met with the most passionate kiss I’ve ever experienced. One hand tugs at the roots of my hair while the other grabs a handful of my ass so roughly it’ll definitely leave marks tomorrow.   
“Are you read for me to return the favor, Princess?”  
“Of course, Doctor.”  
I begin to lay myself down before Spence interrupts.   
“Not like that, baby,” he slides his body down the bed, his head resting just below the pillows, “sit on my face.”  
Now this was something I had never done before.   
He wears my thighs like earmuffs, and I don’t know where to put my hands, but I do know that the way Spencer’s tongue flicks over my clit only increases the wetness dripping from my center. His fingers dig into my ass, guiding my hips to gently ride his tongue. One hand reaches up to massage my breast while he gently sucks on my bundle of nerves. Waves of pleasure crash over my body and I can barely hold myself up. My hands support my weight on the wall, but I slip lower and lower as his tongue dips into me.   
“Oh my God, Spencer,” I can’t help the curses that fall from my lips, his mouth earning soft pants from me. I feel the pit growing deeper in my stomach as Spencer continues to assault me with his tongue.   
“You’re going to make me come, baby,” I alert him, which only makes him work faster. His previously calculated movements become sloppy, his tongue going flat against my center as he tastes every part of me. With a final flick of his tongue and a high pitch moan, I reach my release, almost falling off the side of his bed. He lets me lay beside him as he gently helps me ride out my high with his fingers.   
My breathing slows as his hands explore my body; his eyes glued on my face. He helps me remove my bra and we both stare at each other. There’s a certain intimacy in post-orgasm naked cuddles that you just can’t find anywhere else.   
When he kisses me again, it’s soft and slow, as if he’s afraid of pulling away. My arms wrap around his neck to pull him as close to me as possible. His chain is cold on the skin of my chest.   
“I never want to let you go,” he hums into my neck.   
“You don’t have to, baby,” I assure him.   
His passionate, open mouthed kisses become hungrier and I can feel his erection growing against my thigh. His fingers play with my hardening nipples, heat burning between my legs. Not being able to bear the lack of friction any longer, I roll over to let Spencer spoon me. I guide his tip to my entrance behind me and he slowly pushes into me with a soft moan.   
His hips move slow, rhythmically at first, accompanied by his fingers gently squeezing the sides of my throat. His other arm is locked around my waist, making sure I never let go.  
“You feel amazing, Princess,” he praises, the roughness of his voice in my ear making my entire body tingle. He stretches me out perfectly, filling me the way no one has before. His pace quickens, each thrust threatening to send me over the edge.   
I know I won’t last long when his fingers leave my throat to gently massage my clit. The stimulation is almost too much to handle, causing me to moan much louder than I would normally be comfortable with. It obviously does something for Spencer, his thrust getting deeper and sloppier.   
“You fuck me so good, Spencer,” I stutter out.  
“You like being fucked like this?” He asks, speeding up even more, his hips meeting my ass with a loud slap each time.  
“Oh my God, yes,” I scream more than say. He feels my walls tighten as I come undone, prompting his own release.   
Pulling out, he wraps both his arms around my waist and pulls me into a tight hug, our heavy breathing synched.


	14. Pillow Talk

Spencer’s embrace feels like coming home. Our bodies fit together as pieces in an ages old puzzle. His breathing is a steady rhythm, warm down the back of my neck, calming every uncertainty I’ve ever had.   
Just when I think he’s fallen asleep I feel the delicate touch of Spencer’s lips on my skin.   
“Hey, sugar,” I roll over to face him, “I thought you were asleep.”  
His eye lids are heavy, his skin still smudged with red. A soft grin spreads across his face at the sight of mine.  
“Can I tell you something?” He asks, the coarseness in his voice earlier has been replaced by fatigue. Drowsiness washes over my body as well, leaving me to respond with only a nod.  
“I’ve never met anyone quite like you,” he starts, but something makes him hesitate. He clears his throat and tries again, “I uh, I didn’t have the best childhood.” As he begins again, I realize I didn’t know much about his youth other than where he was from and the fact that he started college at a very young age.   
“Being a boy wonder in Las Vegas public schools did not go over well with the other students,” he explains, his body waking up more as he speaks.   
“I didn’t have any friends, let alone a girlfriend. There was this one time I got a note from this girl I had crush on. She thought I was cute but would only meet me if I wore a blindfold. I did and she took my shirt off. That's when I heard the laughter. Most of the senior class was in there.” He winces at the memory; I instinctively pull him in closer.   
“Hey,” I force his eyes to meet mine, “I promise to make blindfolds fun again.” When he smiles, I can see the tears that had been forming in his eyes. It was more then just that one time with that one girl, his entire life he had been made fun of and not taken seriously anywhere except academia. The only place he found solace was books and theories—things that couldn’t belittle or embarrass him.   
“You’re just so special because,” his voice gets caught in his throat, “because you want to hear my fun facts even when I’m just knowledge dumping on you. You want to go on weird dates with me and watch niche TV shows and movies. You actually listen when I talk and I’ve never gotten that from a friend,” my eyes are threatening to release tears at this point too, “let alone someone who will also touch my dick.” He breaks our somber moment with humor. We both giggle with tear and lipstick stained faces.   
“Seriously, when I started teaching, I would get so many girls that would audit my classes because I guess I look better now.” I glare at his understatement. “None of them actually cared what I had to say, they just wanted to fuck. I actually lost my virginity to a girl who couldn’t draw a chair conformation to save her life.” He’s joking, but I can tell it hurts.   
“This is all just to say I really appreciate you and I’m glad you’re going out with me, even if we have to hide it sometimes.” My heart flutters at his sincerity. I press my lips to his, showing my genuine appreciation for his presence in my life.   
“I know you have to be as tired as I am,” he kisses my forehead, “I got a spare toothbrush and some face wash for you after the last time you slept here, they’re in the cabinet under the sink. You can also borrow whatever you want to sleep in.” I take his invitation and get ready for bed, literally in love with the fact that he got me overnight stuff after just one visit. When I return to his bedroom, he leaves to freshen up as well. I slip on a clean pair of Spencer’s shorts and one of his Umich Chemistry t-shirts I would never catch him wearing outside of his apartment.   
“You look better in that then I ever have.” I jump at his voice, not realizing he had come back. His hands rest gently on my hips, guiding me back to bed with him. I fall asleep with my head on his chest, listening to the way his heart beats.   
*****  
The midday sun shines through Spencer’s bedroom window, highlighting his sleeping frame in golden light. Admiring how peaceful he looks, his chest rising and falling in time, I place a soft kiss on his cheek. His eyes flutter open, his hazel irises thriving in the lighting.   
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” I say in a hushed tone. With a grunt, his arms reach over his head while his feet push towards the end of the bed, his bare chest falling out from under the covers. Quickly, I’m wrapped up in his embrace, his face nuzzling into my neck.   
“Good morning, beautiful,” is all he says in response. We lay like this, neither of us going back to sleep yet neither of us sleeping, for another ten minutes before Spencer breaks the silence.   
“Let’s take a shower,” he mumbles into my ear. My eyes widen at the suggestion, which he can sense without even looking at my face.   
“Come on,” he pulls me up, peppering my shoulder with kisses. I can’t deny that I’m intrigued.   
Spencer turns the shower on to build up some steam before turning to me. His fingers shyly remove his stolen t-shirt from my torso, quickly followed by the shorts and the boxers that he slept in. Ushering me in, the warm water hits my skin and I sigh at the relief it brings to my muscles.   
Spencer follows behind, pressing his torso flush against my back, igniting the fire between my legs. His hands massage my breasts and I lean my head back on his chest. The combination of his hands, his growing excitement against my back, and the steam building up in the shower, elicit a drawn-out moan from my throat.   
One hand slides down my chest and between my legs, dipping into my growing heat. “You’re already so wet for me,” he remarks, pumping a finger in and out of my core. I can only whimper back. Adding a second finger, his thumb finds my clit and I can barely keep myself up.   
“You look so pretty like this, Princess, soaking wet and withering under my touch,” the ruggedness returning to his voice. It doesn’t take long for his fingers to bring me close to my release, but I need to feel him inside me. I need to come on his dick.  
I turn to steady myself on the wall, pushing my ass out to meet Spencer’s hips.   
“Please just fuck me, Doctor,” I beg. He wastes no time pushing into me, barely giving me time to adjust before pounding into me so quickly I can’t form a coherent thought. Spencer’s fingertips dig into my hips, pulling me to meet every thrust. I can tell he’s close when his pace loses its rhythm and he let curses slip off of his tongue.   
“Fuck…Vee,” his head falls back and I can feel his nails in my skin.   
“Spence, I’m so close,” I say, feeling my release building up.   
With his fingers drawing circles on my clit, he breathes into my ear, “Come for me, baby.” With his vulgar words I come undone, his fingers and thrusts slowing to let me ride out my orgasm. He doesn’t let up for long, though. With a few final thrusts to the hilt, Spencer comes. I quickly turn around to grace him with a hungry kiss.  
Grabbing a wash cloth, Spencer chuckles out, “Let’s get you cleaned up, beautiful.”


	15. Monday Morning Blues

I all but stumble into Monday morning’s lecture five minutes late, exhausted having spent all day Saturday in Spencer’s bed and subsequently all-day Sunday camped out in the library. The lights in the lecture hall, hell, the sun outside on the walk here, were too damn bright. The air was cold but sticky in that awkward way that it is when summer turns to fall. The symphony of coughs and squeaky chairs threatens to make me pull out my own ear drums.   
My own chair, in the fourth row, squeals as I pull it away from the table, causing a noticeable look of distaste to spread across my face.   
“Everything alright, baby?” Spencer’s voice is barely more than a whisper, as not to alert Sessions. The sweet smell of Sueña’s espresso fills my nostrils, drawing my attention to the paper cup sitting in front of me.   
“Long night,” I sigh at my own under exaggeration, “I appreciate you.” My fingers find his, gently squeezing three times.   
By the time I tune into the lecture, Sessions has already presented the class with at least an hour worth of material to study. My attention, as much as I try to focus it, is drawn between her awful sketches of particle diagrams and the delicate feel of Spencer’s pink finger tracing shapes on my kneecaps under the table. Hearts?  
Pages of my notebook are filled with messy misinterpretations of Session’s lecture that I will definitely have to dedicate at least three hours to learning and fixing tonight.   
“Plans tonight?” Spence asks. Us being the only two people left in the large auditorium while I finish scribbling the last of my thoughts allows him to speak in his normal voice.   
“Just a hot date with the library, the next exam for this is way closer than I would like,” I explain, finally packing my bag to leave.   
“Why don’t I join you? My thesis includes at least half of the topics that’ll be on the next exam,” he offers, and who am I to decline?   
The atrium is filled with students mindlessly chattering while waiting for their next classes.   
“Dr. Reid, Dr. Reid!” A high pitch voice shouts from across the way. Our heads turn towards the noise simultaneously, revealing its source.   
“Dr. Reid, do you offer group tutoring sessions?” Kori stares up at Spencer, popping her gum while waiting for his response. Behind her is a tall and slender red headed girl and a short, yet built, boy with pin straight green hair, both familiar faces from Spencer’s discussion. The girl snickers to the boy hearing Kori’s question.   
“Sometimes,” he responds with much more confidence than I would be able to while standing next to my secret student girlfriend. “When were you all looking to get together?”  
“We were planning on meeting up at the Shapiro around seven tonight,” the red head speaks up. My eyes go wide, knowing that’s where I was planning on heading tonight.   
“Violet, you should join us,” Kori suggests.  
“It’s Vivian,” Spencer corrects before I get the chance. The red head and the short boy share another look and a snicker.   
“Sounds good to me,” I start, expressing all the artificial confidence I can muster, “Dr. Reid, you’ll meet us in the café at the Shapiro at seven?” I glance at him, hoping he’ll say yes as not to make it awkward, knowing if he tries to make up a fake excuse, he will give away that something is going on.  
“I’ll be there,” his voice is smaller than before, “I do have to be on my way now, though. Catch all of you later.” He shoots me an apologetic look for leaving me alone with them, or perhaps for leaving me without a kiss, before exiting the building.   
“Where are you headed now, Vivian?” She doesn’t give me time to answer before speaking again, “Oh! This is Marian and Stefan, by the way,” the other two characters standing behind her like minions out of a 2000s coming of age film.   
I give them a small smile before answering her initial question, “I was just going to get some work done downstairs, maybe grab lunch in a little bit.”  
“We were just heading downstairs too, maybe we can get ahead before meeting up with Dr. Reid.” I’m too polite, or I just don’t know how, to turn them down, so we head down to the lower atrium as a unit, spreading our stuff across four benches.   
“Now, Vivian, be honest,” Kori says before we can begin discussing chemistry. Her cliff-hanger of an opener leaves me worried that Spencer and I aren’t as covert as I though we were. “Isn’t Dr. Reid, like, so hot?” Marian seconds a so hot and I shift in my seat. Now I could be honest and gossip about the hot doctor with them, but what if I give away just how well I know him?   
I play it on the safe side, “I guess he looks pretty good.” What an understatement. Saying that felt so uncomfortable on my tongue, knowing how easily distracted I was by the veins in his hands and that I dreamed of his smile.   
“Literally. His hair looks so soft I just want to run my hands through it,” Marian remarks. My mind goes straight to the way my fingers snake through his roots while his mouth is between my thighs. It was soft.   
“I cannot wait to see that sexy genius later,” Kori exclaimed before opening her laptop to focus on what we came down here for in the first place. I should be jealous, these girls chattering about how hot my boyfriend is, but it feels almost…sexy to know that I’ve got the hot commodity.


	16. A Long Night at Shapiro

The atmosphere in the library is exactly what one would expect of a college library on a weeknight—loud and obnoxiously crowded. Peering into the café, I see way too many people ordering espresso for it to be the early evening, but I give in and join them, settling for a vanilla latte.   
“Vivi, over here!” I hear my name from one of the tiny high-top tables that lines the café area. Kori and her accomplices are perched on one side of the table, their phones and headphones covering the entire space.   
“Hey, guys,” I greet them, my voice lacking any confidence. Throwing my bag on the ground and grabbing the last seat, I can’t even find a place to set my cup down on the tiny table they’ve chosen.  
“Oh my God, that smells so good, what is it?” The redhead, Marian, questions me.   
“Vanilla latte,” I answer in a slightly confused tone. I’ve never been the best at making new friends, and something about this group was putting me on edge. Maybe it was just the fact that I am hopelessly socially awkward. Or maybe, it was because we were here to meet up with my secret boyfriend and shared TA for a study group. Regardless, I clutch my coffee cup, preparing for a relentlessly uncomfortable evening.   
“What do you guys think Dr. Reid looks like after hours? Is he going to show up in his tie and slacks like always?” Kori questions the group, her high pitch voice ringing in my ears. My mind immediately goes to the movie nights Spencer and I have had—his outfits always consisting of obnoxious patterned pajama bottoms and skeleton t-shirts. Lost in my own daydream, I can barely hear Kori, Marian, and Stefan babbling about how good Dr. Reid looks in cardigans.   
I feel a presence behind me as their conversation fades to giggles. Looking up and over my shoulder, Spencer is standing with a goofy smile plastered across his face. My eyes plead, save me, but he shrugs it off. He’s wearing a navy cardigan over a white button up, to Kori and her friend’s delight.  
“Why don’t we find a bigger table upstairs,” I suggest, wanting desperately to escape this night as soon as possible. I could have just said no to this, but alas, I am a people pleaser. Spencer and I trail behind Kori’s clique up the stairway, our conversation drowned out by the gossip they’re spouting.   
“This is going to be fun,” Spencer jokes, clearly about as enthused as I am to be here. However, he was also a people pleaser who wanted to see his students succeed, so he couldn’t turn down this opportunity either.   
“You know all three of them have a crush on you, right?” I asked. He shook his head lightly, his hair falling into his face. His fingers gently push it back behind his ear and I find myself staring at him for a little too long, causing me to stumble over the last step. Instinctively, one of Spencer’s hands shoots out to grab my wrist and the other steadies my waist, preventing me from face planting. Kori and her group turn around synchronously and I become very aware of the way Spencer is holding me.  
I see an emotion flash across Kori’s face, jealousy? All three of them stifle giggles as they push through the double doors that lead to the second floor. My face is on fire, surely the color of a tomato. Spencer doesn’t make it any better. “You look pretty cute, all rosy like that,” he says, smugly. I hit his arm, hoping our company isn’t paying attention to this interaction.   
Lucky for me, once we’re spread out at a table, we get down to business. I put my headphones in, knowing if I try and focus on Spencer’s lecturing that I’ll get distracted by the way his mouth moves. Marian and Stefan do a good job of at least pretending to listen to Spencer, but Kori’s pen hasn’t moved in fifteen minutes, her head perched on her fist as she stares down my boyfriend.   
It takes Spencer that long to realize no one is really paying attention and I can see the smile that normally graces his face fall.   
“I guess that’s a good start on what you all should be going over,” he sighs, taking his seat across from me, “I’m going to get some of my own work done, but feel free to interrupt me with questions.” He normally speaks with such enthusiasm, excited to share his knowledge with others.   
“Wait, Dr. Reid,” I remove my headphones, determined to actually pay attention to his words and not his face, “can you go over the Higgs Mechanism again?” Spencer’s eyes brighten again, and he grabs a purple expo marker from the table. I focus intently on his handwriting, the curve of his letters and the way he dots his eyes, trying to take in all his genius.   
He loses Kori and company’s attention after ten minutes, but I keep my eyes and ears trained on him. His confidence oozes out with every fact he can pull off the top of his head; it’s honestly a huge turn on. Knowing he’s only speaking to me now, his eyes gloss over my body as he finishes his explanation.   
“Does that make sense?” He poses the question to the entire group, but I’m the only one that answers. “A lot more now, thank you, Dr. Reid,” I reply. Now it’s his turn to blush tonight. He takes his seat, grabbing a stack of papers out of his bag before tossing it on the ground, placing his phone on top of it.  
We work silently together—Spencer reading a research paper his lab mate authored, Kori and her buddies working on some problem set for a class I don’t have, and I finishing a paper for my writing class. Between songs in my headphones, I can hear Marian whispering. Spencer, despite his lack of headphones, is too lost in his reading to notice, but I do.   
“No, seriously, look,” I hear. Kori glances under the table and her mouth drops open. A new song starts playing before I can hear her response, but clearly something bothered her, leaving her remarkably silent for the rest of the night.   
Closing in on ten o’clock, Spencer wishes us farewells, his eyes lingering on me longer than they should when he’s in front of his other students, but I bask in it, nonetheless. I keep my gaze on him until he disappears behind the double doors.   
“Should we call it a night too or do you guys want to work on the assignment that’s due next week?” I ask, more comfortable with their presence than I was at the beginning of the night. None of them respond, instead they all just stare at me with confused looks. The confidence I had built throughout the evening instantly shattered and I began to retreat into myself.   
“Do you know Dr. Reid from outside of class?” Stefan finally breaks the awkward tension.   
“I’ve, uh, seen him around c-campus,” I stutter out, “but not really, why?” I can’t imagine what they picked up on that would give them a clue to just how well Spencer and I knew each other.  
“Are you on his lock screen?” Marian asks. Oh, God, I am. I need to tell Spencer that you keep your phone face down when you’re hiding something, everyone knows that. They must have seen it under the table. Dammit.  
I’m not a good liar, but I don’t know how else to get out of this situation. How does one admit to three other students that they are dating the hot professor?   
“No? Why would I be?” I say, as convincingly as possible. Marian’s eyes narrow before accepting my answer. Stefan had already lost interest in the conversation, but Kori remained suspiciously silent.   
“You’re right,” Marian stated, causing me to sigh with relief. She turned to her friends, “Do you guys want to head out now? It’s getting late.” Stefan nodded, but Kori spoke up for the first time in the past hour, “You guys go ahead, I’ll stay with Vivian so that she doesn’t have to walk back alone.”   
“No, you don’t have to,” I insist, but she starts babbling about campus sexual assault statistics and at this point I’d just look suspicious for refusing her company. She gives her friends a ten-minute head start before packing up her own things to head out.   
Our walk back downstairs and across the diag is dangerously silent. Before we turn onto the street that homes both of our apartment buildings, Kori turns to question me.  
“That’s definitely you on his lock screen.” Oh shit.


	17. Trouble in Paradise

Somehow, thank God, I was able to fend Kori off with some story about how I must look like the girl on his lock screen, but there’s no way it could be me. It seemed to appease her—she let me go into the lobby of my apartment building, where I was standing now.   
I was almost frozen with anxiety. I always knew in the back of my head that Spencer and I were unrealistic. There was no reason why a teacher and student relationship could or should work. I think the issue is, I don’t see him as my teacher completely. He’s this beautiful face and mind that somehow happened to fall into my life, and who was I to deny it? On the other hand, I needed to stop ignoring the fact that our relationship couldn’t move past what it was now. It was going to be a secret until at least the end of the semester—longer knowing the way people build relationships in the small chemistry department. For all I know, I could be working in his lab next semester.   
There was so much to think about—too much to think about when I still needed to focus on my classes and start looking for an internship or lab work for next semester. I needed to talk to Spencer now and figure out exactly what we were supposed to be in a situation like this.   
I almost drop my phone the way I fumble to grab it from my pocket. My eyes settle on Spencer’s contact, but I can’t bring myself to dial. I click the screen off and make my way up to my apartment to find Char spread out on the couch, watching one of her sitcoms on the television.   
“Viv, baby, welcome home,” she kindly greeted, without taking her eyes off the TV. I huffed a quick ‘hey’ before almost slamming my bedroom door shut. Goddammit. Of course, the only way to fix this is to talk to Spencer and I can’t even bring myself to call him.   
I hear Char’s knuckling rapping lightly against my door and give her a barely audible cue to enter.   
“Vivian, are you alright?” She questions. Char had been one of my first friends when I started college. Despite the large number of people from my graduating class that attended this school, I was never really friends with them in high school and that certainly didn’t change here. We did everything together our freshman year—meals, study sessions, parties. She certainly meant the world to me and I couldn’t even disclose to her what exactly was wrong with me. She was probably the one person I really wanted to talk to about this.  
“Just, uh,” I stutter out, racking my brain for a reasonable excuse. “I’ve just felt sick all day and it’s making me frustrated. I think I just need a warm shower and a good night’s rest,” I ramble, the last bit being true. Her hand lightly rubs circles on my back and I instinctively rest my head on her shoulder.   
“Alright,” she sighs, clearly knowing it’s something more than what I’m saying, “let me know if you need to talk, baby, sleep tight.” My body sinks into the bed at the sound of the door clicking back into place. I just want to disappear, not worry about this for two seconds. I guess that’s what sleep is for.   
Mustering up all my strength, I shower and moisturize before settling into my bed for the night. The steam in the shower only served to remind me of the amazing way Spencer felt last weekend. No matter what I did, I couldn’t shake him from my head, not even for one night.   
As if the universe wanted to play another cruel trick on my struggling mind, my phone dinged on my nightstand, alerting me to a message. Glancing at it, I see Spencer’s name on the screen, followed by a short, yet sweet message.   
Sleep tight, princess.  
Normally I would have felt butterflies creeping into my stomach, but this time all I felt was tension in my chest. I don’t even open it. I set my phone to do not disturb and swallow a helping of melatonin pills before falling into a deep sleep.   
*****  
My Wednesday and Friday are spent dodging Spencer. I sat in the back of the lecture hall, I made up lame excuses when he asked me for lunch or coffee. I even stopped answering his calls, only replying to him with one- or two-word texts. Despite the taste of his lips being the only thing that I want in the world at the moment, I still don’t know what to say to him about what Kori figured out on Monday night.   
This was the first Friday night I had spent in since the beginning of the semester. My relationship turmoil, despite it all being in my head, just made me want to watch sad romance movies and drink hot chocolate all night. Char wanted to join me, but I insisted she spend the weekend with her girlfriend, like she always does. Secretly, I just wanted to be able to mope in silence.   
An hour into Me Before You, I hear a knock at the front door. I assume it’s Char. She only left twenty or so minutes ago and is constantly forgetting her keys. At least this time she realized it before she was all the way to her girlfriend’s place, or she’d be calling me to let her in at four in the morning again.   
“Where’d you leave them this ti-” I swing the door open without looking in the peep hole and am caught off guard by the sight. Spencer is towering over me, his figure draped in a Michigan hoodie and joggers, his feet covered by dirty white converse as always. My voice becomes trapped in my throat at the sight of his eyes. I’ve never seen him look so…broken. I can’t help but fall into his arms in an attempt to wipe that look from his face. His arms are quick to return the embrace, his chin resting on my head.   
We stay like this, simply existing in each other’s presence, for what seems like hours. Breaking away, I usher him over to the couch without a word. I can’t bring myself to look at his face, too scared that a hug wasn’t all it took to make that look go away.  
I can’t tell if it’s a blessing or a curse when he puts distance between us on the couch, not even resting his hand on mine. While I just want to cuddle him and make sure everything is okay, I’m still on edge not knowing what our relationship actually is.   
I’m glad when he speaks first, knowing I didn’t know how to begin to explain what was running through my head. “You’ve been ignoring me,” he states, his voice shy but sure. I curse myself for having to hold back tears; the littlest things have always been able to set me off.   
“I, um,” I can’t contain them any longer as one slips down my cheek when I begin to explain myself. “I’m scared.” I finally manage to get out. I find the courage to look at Spencer, but his gaze is fixed on his hands, picking at the skin on his fingers. I can see that look still on his face and it just makes the tears come faster.   
“Scared of what, Vee?” His tone is one of those ‘I’m not upset, just disappointed’ tones you’d expect from a parent. I feel like I’m about to get lectured, turning my sadness to a small bit of anger.   
“I’m scared of us, Spencer,” I say with more confidence than I expected. Finally, his eyes meet mine, and I can see I flipped a switch in him too. So quickly, we went from holding onto each other for dear life to ready for a screaming match. I don’t know about him, but I am determined to keep my composure, that is, until he speaks again.  
“So, all week you’ve been ignoring me because of us?” His harsh tone cuts deeper than the actual words. “Vivian, you can’t be upset with me, with us, and not tell me about it and expect it to get better.” It’s as if he’s speaking to a child.   
“I hadn’t figured out what to say yet,” I manage, my voice getting caught in my throat. I can’t look at him anymore, but I hear him release a deep sigh.  
“What are you scared of?” He asks, trying, and failing, to sound sincere.   
“Kori and her friends almost figured out that we’re together,” I start. I thought it was enough to explain why I was so upset, but the look of confusion on his face shows that he doesn’t follow. “It made me realize how careful I have to be about letting people know we’re together and that scares me,” I rush out, trying to keep from yelling.   
“I don’t understand why that scares you all of a sudden. It’s been like this for the past two months and you haven’t had a problem with it until now,” he spits. I don’t know why he’s so angry, but I don’t know why I am either.   
“I have a problem with it now because someone—no not just someone—some bitches who are head over heals thirsting for your ass gave me a death glare because they realized I was your lock screen. You should have seen them, Spencer, they were ready to tear me to pieces!” I snap, causing him to back away from me more.   
“I’m sorry that happened, but that’s no excuse to skip class and ignore my calls for a week,” he snapped back, his apology anything but genuine.   
“I didn’t skip class I just didn’t sit with you.” I don’t know why I felt the need to mention that technicality, but it only made him scoff.   
“Vivian, if you’re so scared, why don’t you break up with me. That would clearly be easier for you.” I don’t dare search for sincerity in his voice, knowing it will break my heart if I find it.   
Suddenly, I realize exactly what had been bothering me. I was falling for him. I was falling for him and I couldn’t stand the fact that I had to hide it. I wanted to go to football games with him and go out to dinner with my friends. I wanted to meet his friends and his family. I wanted to be able to fall in love with him and share it with the world.   
But, no matter how much I wanted to, I couldn’t say that now. I couldn’t explain that breaking up with him was the farthest thing from my mind because it would mean admitting that I felt something so strong for him and I wouldn’t be able to handle it, not now, if he didn’t feel the same.   
Swallowing my pride, I calm myself, and wipe the tears from my eyes. He’s just been staring at me, waiting for my response. Looking past his face, not wanting to overanalyze his expression, but still wanting him to know I’m not scared, I find the courage to speak again.   
“That’s not what I want.” My voice isn’t as loud as it should be and I’m worried he’ll mistake it for insincerity. I reach for his hand, but he pulls back. I choke on the tears starting to well up.  
“I have to go,” he states, calmly. I’m frozen and I can’t stop him as he opens the door. He makes it half way down the hallway before I find the nerve to follow him.   
“So you’re just going to ignore me now?” I shout, not caring about who hears.   
He turns around and his eyes stare into my soul. It’s the same look of hopelessness that I found when he first came to my door.   
He barely mouths a response, “I’m sorry,” before turning away again.


	18. Pleasantly Surprised

I find myself stuck in the back of the lecture hall again after a long weekend of Spencer’s radio silence. The only upside was that I was able to get all of my homework done Saturday and spend all of Sunday binge watching Boy Meets World.   
Char found me, tear stained and sleep deprived, late on Friday night—well, I guess it was technically Saturday morning. I still couldn’t bring myself to tell her what happened, too afraid to let anyone know about what Spencer and I had. Regardless, she made me tea and read me poems she memorized for her girlfriend until I was sound asleep on the couch.   
I focused my attention on Professor Sessions as she spoke, my hand moving at light speed to take notes. I knew if I didn’t stop myself, I would be able to find Spencer in our regular seats, scribbling with his purple pen.   
As soon as she dismisses us, I rush out of the room, trying to avoid Spencer at all costs. He was the one that left that night, he could come find me when he was ready. I jump at a tap on my shoulder, knowing I wasn’t ready to speak to him even if he was. To my surprise, it was just Kori. Her gang of minions were nowhere in sight as she began to speak,  
“Hey, Vivi, how was your weekend?” I was glad she hadn’t brought up how we left things. I didn’t need another awkward, tear filled conversation this week.   
“Good, good,” I lie. Her head nods to mirror mine. We stand in the crowded atrium, full of life, yet dead between us.   
“Listen, I’m sorry I cornered you like that. It was rude,” she said, her voice suddenly much less squeaky than I was used to. Did it actually change or was it just her demeanor?  
“Don’t worry about it,” I mutter, not sure how else to respond. I think the conversation is over, but she continues to linger in front of me. Her eyes examine me, the atmosphere between us growing increasingly uncomfortable.   
As if it can’t get any worse, Kori’s face lights up as she spots Dr. Reid. She jumps as she beckons him over.   
“Dr. Reid, hi! How was your weekend?” her high-pitched tone returns.   
“Good, good,” he models exactly what I said, the same awkwardness oozing off him. I stare at him, but his eyes avoid me.   
“We’ll have to get together for another study session some time, I think it helped me a lot,” Kori continues, clearly not able to read the room.   
“Yeah, of course. Let me know when,” Dr. Reid replies. Before Kori can speak again, he excuses himself, “I’ve got to run. See you two in class Wednesday.” At the pace he keeps walking out of the building, it’s almost as if he’s running away from me. This earns an audible sigh from me, which immediately draws Kori’s attention.   
“Both of you are in a mood today. What did you have for breakfast?” She jokes, but the fire Spencer just ignited in me will not go away.   
“You were right,” I blurt out, before I can stop myself, “I was on Dr. Reid’s lock screen.”  
The look on her face is priceless. Her jaw agape silently begs for more answers.   
“We’ve been dating for a few weeks, but it might be over now, so it doesn’t really matter. Don’t tell anyone, please, not even your friends.” I can’t tell if it’s my rambling or just the content of it that keeps her jaw pressed to the floor.   
Eventually, she manages to respond, a big smile spreading across her face that is almost endearing. “That is so cute. We are getting lunch right now; you have to tell me everything.”  
She tugs at my arm, pulling me to follow her out of the building. Her reaction left me confused. I was so convinced she would either freak out and threaten to tell people about Spencer and me, or just make my life hell because she was jealous. She seemed genuinely interested in our relationship, and possibly in being my friend?  
Sitting across from her for an hour at lunch completely changed my perception of her. After explaining to her everything that happened with Spencer and me, well, the PG-13 version, I started to get to know her better. She came from a big family, seven brothers and sisters, in Maine. She was studying biochemistry on a pre-med track. She wanted to work in oncology, researching a treatment for the rare cancer her younger brother had. She loved biking and bullet journaling. Learning all this about her humanized her. It made me trust that she wouldn’t tell anyone about Spencer.   
“So, you get to touch his hair, like, whenever you want,” she giggled. Her ‘obsession’ with him was at bay for most of the meal, but she couldn’t help but ask about some of the intricacies of dating your hot TA.   
“Up until about a week ago, yeah,” I sighed, missing the way it felt to hold him so intimately.   
“I think you should go to him first,” she blurted out, her advice unsolicited, yet greatly appreciated.   
“What makes you say that?” I ask, finishing the last of my fries.   
“Well, from what you’ve told me, and the way he looked at you this morning, he’s dying to let you in, he just doesn’t know how,” she begins. I don’t know where she became such a relationship expert, but I’m glad I have someone to walk me through this.   
“I bet that he feels the same way you do. He feels trapped because you two have to hide, but he feels so much for you. He isn’t sure if you feel the same way and you aren’t sure if he does either.” Is she right? Should I risk making myself vulnerable to him without knowing if he will reciprocate?  
“It feels like so much is on the line if I go to him first; if I admit that I’m falling for him,” I explain, finally able to work through my emotions after a week of poor coping mechanisms—lots of caffein and crying.   
“What’s the worst that could happen? You two stop talking? That’s exactly what’s happening now. This is the best way to keep it from getting any worse.” I hate to admit it, but she’s right. It’s time to put my pride aside, again, and talk to Spencer. I just hope he wants to talk, even better than he feels the same.   
“Thank you, I really appreciate you talking with me,” I tell Kori. She responds with a bright smile, pushing her remaining fries in my direction to finish off.   
“Anytime. I mean it. We should really hang out again—no studying and no boy troubles,” she replies. I nod in agreement.   
We settle our tabs and walk back towards central campus. I wish Kori goodbye and make my way towards my next class. Try as I might to focus, all I can think about is what I’m going to say to Spencer. As my final class ends, I shoot him a text,  
We need to talk. Swing by my place at 8? xx


	19. Kiss and Makeup

It’s 8:05. It’s 8:05 in the evening and Spencer still isn’t here. He never responded to my text, but neglected to turn off his read receipts, so I know he saw it. Char granted me the apartment, sensing I needed some alone time. For the past hour I had been sitting in silence, scrolling through twitter, but unable to read anyone’s tweets with my lack of focus. I had a pot of coffee on despite the hour, taking a sip from my mug with every minute that he was late.   
By 8:15 I give up and try and make peace with the fact that he isn’t coming. I put on a cheesy romcom, hoping to resolve some of my issues by living vicariously through Cat Stratford and Patrick Verona. Regardless of how much coffee I consumed, my eyes couldn’t help but flutter shut towards the end of the movie.   
As the end credits roll, I check the time on my phone, not surprised to see I had no new notifications. It was nearing 10:30 and I had nothing else better to do but sleep. Forcing myself off the couch, I stumbled into the bathroom to shower before putting myself to bed. The hot water and steam did little to clear my head, so I put on some music to at least drown out my thoughts. As Knuckle Puck rang out through the bathroom, accompanied by me singing just a little too passionately, I swear I heard someone pounding on my door. Last time, I assumed it was Char and that just got me into a big argument, so I opted to ignore it. If it were someone important, they would text me.   
That’s when my music cut off and my phone began to vibrate on the sink. I shut off the water and wrapped my hair and body in a towel, frustrated with the face that someone was bothering me at this hour. I almost shattered my phone the way it fell from my hand when I saw who was calling. Spencer.  
I couldn’t pick it up before it went to voicemail, my body completely frozen. Why was he calling now when he could have just come when I asked him to? I start to think that I should call him back when the banging on my door begins again.   
Storming out in just a towel, I check the peep hole and almost shatter my phone again. He’s here. He’s almost three hours late, but he’s here. That haunting look still rests on his face, making me almost not want to open the door to him.   
“Vee, I can here you. Can I come in, please?” He’s not argumentative like he was last time. He sounds…desperate.   
“I, uh,” I stutter, not knowing what to do, especially when I’m standing here basically naked. “I’m not dressed, give me a second.” I swear I hear him chuckle before emitting a soft, “Okay.”  
I throw on a pair of shorts and the black t-shirt that was resting on my pillow. Man, I needed to clean my room. Ignoring that thought, I returned to the door and cracked it open at a snail-like pace.   
“Hi,” he managed to greet me with a small smile, but I could still see the hopelessness in his eyes.   
“Hey, uh, come in,” I open the door fully to allow him access. I can tell he’s trying to avoid looking at me, probably still upset with me, but his eye catches something that plasters that beautiful grin across his face.   
“What?” I can’t help but question with genuine confusion. Looking around, I try to figure out what changed his mood so quickly, but I can’t figure it out.   
“You, um,” he starts, not sure how to explain what exactly has him so happy all of a sudden. That’s when it hits me. His eyes still can’t meet my face, but they’re fixated elsewhere on my body. At first, I think he’s just being a boy and staring at me for not wearing a bra, but then I realize the shirt I grabbed off my bed was his Pink Floyd shirt he had given me the morning after our first time. He can tell I figured it out due to the blood that rushes into my cheeks.   
We awkwardly sit on the couch for a few minutes without speaking, but it feels like hours. I want to tell him that I miss him, that I want to be with him because he’s become something so special to me. It takes me forever to find the right words, but when I think I have them, I finally speak.  
“There’s a reason why I started ignoring you when I got scared about our relationship, well, two reasons,” I begin slowly, knowing if I start rambling I won’t be able to control the tears that might start. He nods along with me, inching closer to me instead of backing away like last time.   
“For as long as I can remember, I get scared about the most random stuff. When I get scared, I avoid it,” I can feel the tears well up, but I refuse to let them fall. I take a deep breath before starting again.  
“It got really bad when my parents divorced. I was so scared, so anxious about what was happening, that I avoided my parents. I went out every other night with my friends and I worked eight hour shifts at my job just to avoid being at home.” Spencer reaches for my hand, but I know that touching him will just make me lose it. I pull away and wipe the tears from my waterline.   
“I was convinced they hated me. I argued with my mom all the time, I dreamt of going to school out of state just to avoid her. It got so bad that she forced me to go to therapy or else she was going to cut me out of her life completely.” I couldn’t stop the tears now, but I still couldn’t bring myself into the safety of Spencer’s touch.  
“I learned I have a bad anxiety disorder that’s easily triggered by relationship problems, and my first instinct to cope is always to avoid. That’s why I wouldn’t come to you. It wasn’t fair to you, by any means, but that’s why it happened.” His eyes meet mine for the first time and it’s like he’s staring into my soul.   
“Then you started avoiding me, you asked me to break up with you, and it just felt like the worst thing that could possibly happen. I made you want to leave just because I was scared. I’m so sorry, this is all my fault,” and with that, I collapse into his lap, tears falling from my eyes and staining his pants. He hesitantly runs his hand down my back, trying to calm me before I speak again.   
I pull myself together to finally tell him how I feel. I raise my head to meet his eyes again, knowing my eyes are blood shot and my face bright pink. “I understand if you want to leave, this isn’t fair to you,” I begin, wanting him to understand that he doesn’t have to stay just because of what I’m about to say, but before I can get it out, he grabs my face and crashes my lips against his.   
“I think I’m falling in love with you,” he says, his voice calm and steady, as he pulls away from the heated moment. I can see the slickness of my tears resting on his cheeks.   
I’m lost, frozen, unable to respond. The tears are back, but this time accompanied with a smile than instantly spreads to Spencer’s face too. I kiss him again, knowing it would be the only way to describe how I’m feeling to him. He smiles into it before slipping his tongue past my lips.   
My tears dry as I sink into this warmth—the feeling of safety, knowing that Spencer and I were on the same page. He reaches to pull me in, and I assist him by straddling him. Our bodies meld into one with how close we’re holding each other; it’s as if we’re afraid we’ll float away if we don’t hold on. Spencer’s hands reach under my shirt and lay flat on my back, pushing me to his chest as I continue to fall deeper into his heated kiss.   
I can taste the saltiness of my tears on his lips, reminding me of the rawness of this moment. I’ve kissed him before, I’ve fucked him before, but something was different right now. I could feel every ounce of passion and desire he was pouring into my body with his mouth and his hands. It wasn’t about sex tonight; it was about sharing each other in a way only we could.   
I’m surprised when I’m lifted off the couch, my legs wrapping around Spencer’s waist to keep my balance. His lips detach from mine, but I keep mine sucking on the skin of his neck. Expertly maneuvering my apartment, he finds my room and lays me gently on my bed, removing his shirt before joining me. I try to remove mine, but he stops me by returning his lips to mine. His hands, however, inch it up my torso until my chest is exposed to him.   
His lips leave mine again only to grace the skin between my breasts, lightly kissing me while he palms one of them. He then takes the other nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue and sucking gently, causing me to respond only in mewls. After a moment, he switches his attention to my other breast, his mouth working the same magic while his hand trails down my stomach. His touch is barely there, causing my to almost giggle at the ticklish feeling around my belly button.   
His position allows me the freedom to remove my shirt, which I quickly do. His attention stays on my chest and stomach as I writhe under his touch. He pulls away, just for a moment, to remove my shorts, before returning to trail kisses down my stomach, leaving the skin burning from his display of intimacy.   
“Spencer,” his name falls from my lips in a whimper at the anticipation of feeling his mouth on my sex. His mouth trails my inner thigh, leaving love bites in its wake. I suck in a sharp breath as his tongue parts my folds, sliding up to circle my bundle of nerves. The pleasure of the moment is overwhelming; I try to back away, but his hands lock my hips in place.   
The tension building in my stomach grows as he slips a finger into me. The only reaction I can muster is shouting his name, “Spencer!” The sound of it causes him to moan against my skin, the vibration mixing with the intoxicating touch of his tongue and fingers to bring me over the edge. He feels my walls close around his fingers, but refuses to let up, my body spasming as my orgasm rips through my body.   
Still, he continues to lap at the pooling wetness between my legs for a few more moments before meeting me with a hungry kiss. I pull him into me as if he was a bottle of water and I had been lost in the desert for days. He hums into the kiss as I grind my hips up into the bulge in his pants. I make a lame attempt at removing them, but only manage to inch them down a bit. He helps me by taking them off completely, exposing himself to me fully.   
“Vivian,” he sighs, his eyes pouring into me, “Don’t ever let me go.” He returns to kissing me, but it’s softer, more tender. He’s showing me what exactly I mean to him. I’m not his student, his classmate, or some girl he’s hooking up with. He wants me in every way possible and he intends on showing me.   
He lines himself up at my entrance, my name slipping out of his mouth as he pushes into me. His thrusts are slow, but deep, filling me to the hilt with every motion. My legs wrap around him, pulling his hips as close to mine as I can.   
“I won’t ever let you go,” I pant as his head falls into the nape of my neck. His hips speed up, snapping into me with a sweet slap against my skin. Every thrust elicits a sharp squeal from my throat. I can feel him getting close and I’m close again too. His breath against my ear is enough to make my body shudder.   
“Spencer…I’m going to come,” I warn, feeling the familiar pit in my stomach again.   
“Wait for me, baby,” he commands, his thrusts getting sloppier. Just as I think I can’t hold out any longer, Spencer moans loudly into my ear, sending me into my own spiral. I feel his seed fill me as I ride out my own high. With a few shallow thrusts, he’s drawn out his own as well.   
He pulls out of me, falling to my side, quickly scooping me up into his loving embrace. I welcome it, for a moment, but I try to escape to ensure I don’t wake up with a UTI. His arms tighten as he feels me squirm.  
“Spence, I have to pee,” I state, bluntly. He groans a protest but lets me go. Returning, I see him almost asleep—his eyes closed and his breathing getting heavier. I slip under the covers, being extra careful not to wake him. I can’t tell if he’s asleep, but instinctively, he wraps me in his arms when he feels the heat of my body again, pressing my head to his chest.   
I’m on the verge of falling asleep when I hear him mumble something. That’s cute, he talks in his sleep. “My whole world,” I make out, feeling his grip on me tighten as he follows with a small snore. I drift off, grateful that he spilled my coffee that day in the coffee shop, grateful that he asked me out even if I was his student, grateful that he came to my door even when he was mad at me. I was grateful to just have him.


	20. Night at the Museum

I still wasn’t keen on maintaining a relationship that I had to hide from the world, but the way Spencer made me feel, and the way he felt about me, made it all worth it. It sucks that we can’t walk to class together, hand in hand, or share one-on-one study dates at the library for fear of someone seeing, but our Wednesday lunches and weekend date nights made up for it.   
It had been a month since that fateful night Spencer returned to my door. Despite admitting that he was ‘falling in love’ with me, neither of us had the nerve to utter ‘I love you.’ It was in every lunch tab we picked up for each other, the coffees that we brought to class when we hadn’t found the other at Sueñas, the late nights spent cuddling and watching movies. In all of that, we didn’t need to say it, but it was certainly still too scary to be said.  
The late November air swirled around me, blowing my hair into my lip gloss in a way that made me want to shave my head, as I waited for Spencer outside of his building. His slender figure catches my eye as he waltzes out the door. I can see him eying the golden slip dress I chose for tonight’s outing—a night at the art museum. He’s wearing one of his favorite cardigans under his jacket, a navy blue one that pairs well with the white dress shirt and black slacks he chose. On his feet are those familiar white converse that I’ve grown to love.   
“You look ravishing,” I greet him, earning me a chuckle from his sweet lips. He delicately reaches for my hand, bringing my knuckles to his lips and placing a soft kiss on him, the romantic action making me blush. “You don’t look half bad yourself,” he returns.   
“Do you want to walk to the museum? Or is it too cold? Or are those bad walking shoes?” He rambles, noticing the black pumps I chose.   
“I’d love to walk. If my feet get tired, you can just carry me,” I half joke, knowing that’s most likely how the night will end.   
“Lead the way,” he says, reaching his hand out to grab mine.   
*****  
“This one is called ‘Two Girls Reading.’ This one is easily identified as a Picasso, even by those that aren’t well versed in art. The figure to the left is said to be one of his mistresses, while the other is widely speculated to be one of his past lovers, or perhaps his wife, who was actually his mistress’s sister,” Spencer speaks as if lecturing to a class of art history students.   
Halfway through his speech, I can’t help but move my focus from the painting in front of me to the man next to me. He squints as he analyzes the painting; I’m not sure if it’s because he’s looking for a deeper meaning or just because he isn’t wearing his glasses. His hands are held out in front of him, guiding him through his words. I focus in on the way his veins trail up to his forearms where his shirt and cardigan have been pushed up to reveal bare skin.  
“Where’d you learn that?” I ask, always surprised by the endless amount of knowledge he seems to hold.   
“I took an art history class while I was earning my first bachelor’s degree,” he recites, still intently focused on Picasso’s brush strokes.   
“I like the colors. There’s something really calming about this whole scene,” I say, sounding no where near as intellectual as Spencer does when he comments. My words seem to draw him away from the work. Perhaps he was just done admiring it. His eyes now trail up and down my body, studying me the way he had studied every piece we stopped in front of.   
“Which one has been your favorite so far?” He asks, a smile tugging at his lips. He shoves his hands in his pockets, awaiting my response. I stare up at the ceiling, trying to remember all of the pieces we’ve looked at. I arrive at a real answer but decide to toy with him first.   
“You,” I say, playfully, looking up at him with a smirk. He seems flustered, his hands reaching further into his pockets. He chuckles as he faces the ground, inching toward me. I’m keenly aware of his breath on my ear as he leans in to whisper a response, “Is that so?” His voice is much more confident than his stature.   
Feeling brazen just moments ago, I begin to shy away at his words, letting his dominating aura take over. I nod in response, feeling his lips still dangerously close to my ear.   
“Well,” he starts again, and I can feel the heat growing between us, “you in that dress has certainly been one of my favorite sights tonight. Perhaps I’ll have to pin you to the wall like one of these paintings later,” he whispers, desire dripping off his words. He pulls away, his body language indicating that he too, despite his forwardness, was a bit flustered with the moment. Seeing this, some of my audacity returns to me, making me reply much louder than I probably should have.   
“Why wait?” Had any of the few people in the gallery with us known the context, they would have probably asked us to leave. Lucky for me, the only people leaving were Spencer and me as he forcefully grabs my hand. Rounding the corner, Spencer finds exactly what he’s looking for. Checking one last time to make sure we are rid of bystanders he pushes in the door to the gender-neutral restroom.  
“Doctor, I hadn’t taken you to be much of an exhibitionist,” I remark, hearing the door slam shut behind me. Instead of responding, Spencer makes good on his threat, using his body weight to press me against the door. His lips are on mine, hot and heavy, smearing my lip gloss on to both of our faces. He lets up slightly, but only to snake his arm in between us to inch up my dress. My breath hitches and I struggle to keep my noises quiet, knowing someone could be standing outside the door at any moment. Spencer’s fingers dance over the lace thong I chose for tonight.  
“I’d say you are,” he breathes into our kiss, “you’re soaking just thinking about me taking you here, aren’t you?”  
There’s no need for me to respond as his fingers dip into my wetness, proving that theory for himself. He circles around my clit before removing his touch completely, leaving me practically begging for him.   
“Spencer, please,” I pant. His face manages to hide it, but his movements reveal he’s just as eager as I am. One hand keeps me steady as the other undoes his belt, inching his pants down just enough to release his already erect member. He doesn’t hesitate to push my panties aside and ease himself into my entrance.   
We both struggle to keep this encounter quiet. Spencer groans as he hears me whimper in his ear, every thrust rocking my body into the door. His fingers dig into my bottom as he pulls my hips to meet his.   
“Oh my God, Spencer,” I yelp. One of his hands shoots up, sticking two fingers in my mouth to push my tongue down, keeping me from alerting anyone to what’s happening. I moan against them and I can see how it affects him by the way his face twists and his eyes screw shut. He throws his head back as his thrusts get deeper, bottoming out in me.   
“I’m close, I’m close,” he warns in a hushed tone. His fingers leave my mouth, causing me to struggle to keep quiet as they meet my clit. He rams into me one last time, pausing as I’m filled to the hilt, while his fingers work expertly to bring me my release. I moan his name in whispers as I clench around him, his release quickly following mine with a groan from Spencer.   
His head falls into the nape of my neck and I lace my fingers through his hair, the sweet smell of his shampoo filling my senses. He places a soft kiss at the base of my neck before gently lowering me back onto my feet. I wobble a bit, partly from my shoes, but Spencer holds out his forearms to help steady me.   
We both clean ourselves up, giggling at what we just got ourselves into. Just as I think we’re ready to return to the floor, Spencer grabs my wrist and twirls me around.   
“You don’t want to go out there with sex hair,” he remarks, smoothing down the crown of my head.   
“Ah, thank you.” I place a soft kiss on his lips, but he holds me in place as I try to leave again. His arms snake around my waist, pulling me into a warm embrace. I sigh into his chest, feeling oddly comfortable in the public restroom I just had sex in. He lets me go without a word, trailing behind me as we exit.   
*****  
We wandered around the exhibits for another hour, falling over each other and barely paying attention to any of the art. Even after getting off in the bathroom, we couldn’t seem to keep our hands off each other. Spencer was either clutching my hand or wrapping his arm around my waist—holding me close to him the entire night.   
As assumed, he carried me most of the way back to his apartment. I insisted on walking the last couple blocks by myself, but as we neared the door to his building, he scooped me up bridal style and ushered me all the way to his door.   
“I had a lovely night with you,” I say as he sits me down on his kitchen counter, tossing his keys into a bowl near his door.   
“The pleasure was all mine, Princess,” he replies, the nickname doing unholy things to my body. I grip the edge of the counter leaning my chest forward to reveal more cleavage than I was already showing. Spencer obviously notices when he turns around, positioning himself between my legs and placing his hands on my hips. His face is mere inches from mine when he speaks again.  
“It doesn’t have to be over yet though, does it?” His question, clearly rhetorical, is answered by my lips crashing into his and my hands working swiftly to undo the buttons on his shirt.   
Spencer takes his time—he’s much less frenzied than he was in the museum bathroom. Two orgasms and lots of moaning later, Spencer is hugging my naked body close to his, peppering kisses down my back as I struggle to keep my eyes open.   
“I should really get going,” I hum, the way I lean into him as I speak betrays the insincerity in my words.   
“You don’t mean that” he reads, ever so accurately.   
“I have an exam Thursday, you know that” I reply.   
“I’ll help you study in the morning, just stay with me.” His arms tighten around me with his words, setting my decision in stone.  
“Fine, but you owe me French toast,” I retort. He agrees by kissing my cheek, quickly falling asleep on my shoulder, and I’m quick to follow.


	21. Just Getting By

“Do you think you’re ready?” Kori asks, sitting across from me as we do some last-minute review for our exam tomorrow.   
“Yeah, Spencer helped me out over the weekend. I think I’m understanding some of this stuff a lot better,” I say, flipping through my textbook.  
The café bustles around us, dozens of students cramming over coffee. Kori showed me to one of her favorite coffee shops, about a ten-minute walk from campus. The area is decorated with pristine white furniture and lots of foliage, making the atmosphere feel like spring despite the bitter Michigan November blowing around outside. I take a sip from my drink of choice, a rose-flavored late that was surprisingly appealing.   
“I’m glad you guys worked things out, you guys are so cute together,” she squeals. I was still getting used to her bubbly attitude.   
“What do you mean, you’ve never seen us together as a couple,” I laugh.  
“I can just tell. With what I know about you now and what I’ve seen of him in class, I can see that you guys would make each other very happy,” she explains. My heart warms at the idea. I’m glad that someone is there to reaffirm my relationship. It keeps me sane knowing that keeping this big secret isn’t for nothing.   
“Enough talk about him, more on quantum mechanics. Which practice exam are you doing?” I redirect our focus. We spend a few good hours bouncing between actually studying and gossiping about everything from boys to classes to the best places to eat in Ann Arbor.   
“Geeze, it’s almost eleven. Should we be getting home? Nothing prepares you for an exam like a good night’s rest,” Kori chimes. I nod and start gathering my things. We walk towards our buildings, shivering the whole way with our lack of proper attire.   
“I’ll see you tomorrow!” Kori waves as she walks to her building. Mine is only a block further, but I decide to FaceTime Spencer to keep me company in case anyone tries anything. Okay, maybe it was a little more than that. It’s fine; he’s like my good luck charm. I just need to hear his voice before I go to sleep, and it’ll have me ready to ace that exam.   
“Hey, Vee, what’s up?” He answers after a few rings.   
“Not much. I’m just walking by myself and wanted to make sure there was a witness if anyone tried to grab me,” I say, mostly telling the truth. Spencer, however, sees through what I’m not revealing.   
“That may be true, but I think you just wanted to see my face,” he remarks.   
“You caught me,” I laugh, strutting through the parking lot of my complex.  
“Where are you coming back from?” He questions, setting his phone up on his dining room table, revealing the fortress of books and papers he has surrounded himself with.  
“Just some coffee shop Kori showed me. We were just brushing up on the topics for the exam tomorrow. Nothing as serious as what you’ve obviously gotten yourself into,” I respond, joking about his setting.  
“Oh, this? This is just a normal Wednesday night for me.” We both laugh as I turn the key in my door. To my surprise, I find Char on the floor in front of our couch, her face buried in her knees.   
“Spencer, I think I have to go, I’ll text you.” I don’t wait for his response before hanging up.  
I take a seat beside Char, crouching down to try and see her face.   
“Hey, sweetie, what’s up?” I say, my voice hushed, as I lightly rub circles on her back. All I can hear are whimpers as she tries to explain something to me.  
“Hey, hey, hey. Breathe with me, in through your nose,” I model, listening for her to copy. “Hold,” I hear her choke on her breath a little as she mimics me. “Out through your mouth.” I walk her through a few more breaths until she leans up to face me. Her brown skin is stained with tears, her eyes bloodshot.   
“Ari, um,” she starts, sniffling before she continues, “Ari was cheating on me. I went over to her place to surprise her with an early birthday gift and some shirtless guy opened the door. She admitted everything when she realized it was me.”  
I’m not very good at talking to others when they’re upset. All I can think to do is pull her into a hug. I stay quiet, worried whatever I say will upset her further. She sniffles into my shoulder, hugging my arm tightly, while I wait for her to clam down. I break my silence when I realize there is one thing I can say that I’m sure won’t stir the pot.  
“Want to go get ice cream?” Her head perks up, and I see a light in her eyes for the first time since I got home. She nods, giggling a bit while wiping her tears.   
“I think the Creamery is closed, but we can Uber to Kroger,” I suggest, already pulling out my phone to order the car. It’s only a few minutes before the map shows that our ride is outside, and we shuffle into the back of the small sedan.  
“How are you ladies doing tonight?” The driver, a young man named James according to the app, asks in way too chipper of a tone for it to be 11:30 on a Wednesday night.   
“Not too bad,” I respond, almost laughing at my lie. It’s a quick drive to the store, but James keeps us chatting the entire ride. Lucky for me, it’s seemed to help dry Char’s tears a bit. Hopping out of the car, we rush into the store so that we don’t have to be out too late. We grab three pints of Ben and Jerry’s and hurry through the self-checkout to find another Uber outside waiting for us. The drive back is much quieter, so it seems to be quicker.   
“Thanks for this,” Char says, rifling through our kitchen drawers to find two spoons. We each down half a pint before we turn in.   
Ready for bed, I pull my covers up to my head before checking my phone. 12:15. Could be worse, I don’t have to wake up until eight, so I should still get plenty of sleep. Under the clock, I see I have a snap chat notification from Spencer, which is odd since he literally only has snap chat because I forced him to download it.   
I tap on the little red square and Spencer’s face graces my screen. He wears a bright grin and a dangling gold chain, but no shirt. I laugh, wondering when he became such a typical guy. Regardless, I send back a picture of my tired eyes, captioning it with a wink. Before I realize it, we’re snapping pictures back and forth, discussing our day through the captions. I’m enamored with how well he takes selfies and I can’t help but want to wait up longer for more.   
It isn’t until I see the time, 1:26, that I finally wish Spencer a good night and settle into my bed. I’m fast asleep within moments, but my dreams are plagued with the way Spencer holds me, the taste of his lips, the smell of his hair. My mind flashes over our rendezvous in the museum and our antics in the shower. I’m startled awake by my alarm six hours later, groggy and bothered.   
*****  
The chemistry building is almost empty when I arrive, a large red eye in my hands despite it being seven o’clock in the evening. I see Spencer perched on the concrete slabs that line the flowerbeds overlooking the atrium and make my way over to him.  
“Dr. Reid,” I greet, startling him away from the novel in his hands. His face lights up at the sight of me, making my heart skip a beat.   
“I’m just about to head into my exam,” I explain, pointing towards my assigned room.   
“Yeah, I should probably be heading into my room as well,” he notes, being a proctor since he’s a TA for the class. I turn, prepared to go our separate ways, but his hand reaches for mine, and I’m glad the building is empty.   
“Hey,” he says, pulling me back to him, “good luck.” He places a soft kiss to my cheek. I smile a thank you before bouncing into my exam room on a bit of an emotional high.   
My hands shake as I write out the answers to the questions in front of me, my eyes heavy regardless of how much caffeine I consume. I know my work is sloppy, but it’s right as far as I’m concerned. When the ten-minute warning is called, I have almost every page filled out. Proud of myself, I slap my exam papers into the proctor’s hand before bounding out of the room, anxious to meet up with Spencer for some after-exam bubble tea.   
We head over to the same spot we did after the last exam and spend the evening talking and laughing about anything and everything. Spencer walks me home, but I have him leave me in the lobby, not wanting Char to get a hint of my relationship when hers is going to shit. I wish him well with a drawn-out kiss and float up the stairs to my apartment. I nearly collapse into my bed after the long day, and I’m asleep within minutes.


	22. Midnight Mathematics

“I just don’t understand how I did this bad. I was so sure of myself,” I whine, sitting across from Spencer at the small taco joint he chose for our traditional Wednesday lunch.   
“It wasn’t that bad; it was barely below the average. A seventy percent is more than decent considering the material,” he replies before biting into his meal.   
“It wouldn’t be that bad if I wasn’t already sitting at a sixty-five in that class. I literally have to ace the final in order to pass the class,” I vent. Spencer’s hand caresses mine, silently trying to calm my nerves. The delicate touch of his fingertips does work wonders when it comes to my anxieties. I sigh, giving up on my rant and giving in to the street-style asada tacos in front of me.   
“Hey, listen,” Spencer starts, aware of my still clearly distraught expression, “you have nothing to worry about when you have your own personal tutor. I can help you with the final project and with studying for the final exam.”  
I mull over his words. I didn’t want to take advantage of my relationship with him. Everyone else only got access to Spencer’s genius during office hours or scheduled tutoring sessions. It’s not fair for me to have him at my beck and call like this. Then again, I really needed the help. I guess I could just think of our study dates as our own personal scheduled tutoring sessions.   
“Fine, thank you,” I give into his pouting eyes. “I do appreciate you, Spence, I really do.” My words transform his expression, his gorgeous grin gracing my presence. He lets go of my hand before digging into his food again. When he speaks, his mouth is stuffed, and his words garbled.  
“We should get started tomorrow, that project is due in two weeks,” he manages.   
“Spence, swallow first,” I laugh, tossing a napkin in his direction. He does as he’s told before speaking again.  
“Tomorrow, at that café Kori showed you, it sounds really nice. Meet me there at eight.” I nod to confirm, already looking forward to seeing him. Any time spent with Spencer was quality time.   
Spencer settled our tab, as usual, and held the door open for me as we exited the little building. He clutched my hand, pulling it close to him as we walked, until we reached the diag. I missed the feeling of his fingers as he parted from me, but I understood that it needed to be this way. He sent me off with a wave, heading towards the graduate library as I made my way back to the chemistry building.   
*****  
“What did you order?” Spencer asks as I sit across from him, the café just as crowded as it had been last weekend.   
“A dirty chai,” I reply, letting the cinnamon flavored steam take over my senses. I didn’t even have to ask what he ordered; I knew his evening beverage of choice was a simple coffee with milk.   
I pull out my laptop to start building a poster template as I notice that Spencer only has his journal with him. Normally he’s surrounded by stacks of papers and books, his leather shoulder bag bursting at the seams with work. Now, it sat limp beside our table, clearly housing little other than the journal.   
“Don’t you need a laptop?” I question, wondering how he expects to help me create this poster without one.   
“Everything I need is in here,” he holds up his journal, “or in here,” he taps the side of his head. I giggle at the comment. He had this strange type of humble about him. He knew he was smart, certainly the smartest in most rooms, and he wasn’t afraid to show it. He rambled off random facts about whatever the topic of conversation was, instantly grabbing the attention of the room, for better or for worse. What made him different is that it didn’t seem important to him. Yeah, he was the smartest person in the room, but what of it? It didn’t make him think he was bigger or better than anyone else. It was admirable.   
“Okay, boy genius, my topic is the Schrödinger equation, what do you got for me?” I perch my elbows on the table and hold my head up on my hands, starring right at Spencer’s face, but his eyes not making contact. He’s flipping through his journal; I see the scribbles of purple ink floating through the pages. He runs his fingertip over every page before swiftly flipping to the next one, moving at an unprecedented pace. Before I can stop myself, I set my sights on the veins that poke out, running from his fingers up his forearms. My attention is brought back to reality with Spencer’s ‘teacher voice’ that I’m all too familiar with.   
“So you’re going to want to hit on the main reasons this equation is important. The Schrödinger equation comes from…” He delves into a deep history that would impress Schrödinger himself. I recognize some of the information from lectures and Spencer’s discussions, but his words fly by me. I’m lost in the way his hands seem to guide his thought, keeping his rhythm like an orchestra conductor. I reach out for one of them, dying to feel the soft callousness against my skin.   
My touch interrupts him from his lecture, his eyes finally meeting mine. He brings my hand to his face, tenderly kissing my knuckles before flashing me a smile. Following a tight squeeze, he releases me from his grasp and I already miss the sensation.   
“Do you want to work on this project right now?” He asks, his tone genuine, not mocking me for losing focus.   
“I don’t really have the attention span for it at the moment,” I admit. Spencer lifts from his seat slightly, hovering over the table. He draws two fingers towards him, gesturing for me to bring me face to his. My body is on fire the minute his warm breath hits my ear.   
“Why don’t we go back to my place for a little break,” he whispers, biting his lip as he returns to his seat.   
“I think I’d like that, Dr. Reid,” I tease. I can see the way his pupils swallow the golden of his eyes. He gets up again to get our drinks put in to-go cups while I shove my laptop back in my bag, only having accomplished a title for my poster.   
The walk back to Spencer’s takes entirely too long, his arm around my waist, hand treading dangerously close to my bottom, the entire way. The moment his door shuts behind us, his weight is pressing mine against the wall, his lips attaching to my neck. His swift movements leave my skin burning, his name falling from my lips in between breaths.   
His hands travel down to my legs, his fingers digging into the back of my thighs as he lifts me. I expect to see the familiar path to his bedroom as we move, his lips still leaving love bites under my ear. I’m startled as I feel the cold surface I’m set on, definitely not the comfort of Spencer’s bed. I try to take in my surroundings, figure out where exactly he’s taken me, but my vision is obstructed when Spencer brings his lips to mine, tugging gently at my bottom lip as he kisses me.   
He pulls away to assist me in lifting my shirt over my head and I see that we’re in his kitchen. I’m sat on the island and his body is positioned in between my legs. His fingers massage me through the yoga pants I’m wearing, the friction not enough for the heat growing there. I try to grind into him, but his hand draws away as soon as he feels me move.   
“Spence?” I question as he steps back from me. He pulls his shirt from his body, revealing the lean yet tone muscles lying underneath. My eyes rack his body while I wait for him to speak.   
“Tell me why I should fuck you, Princess?” There’s something in his voice I’ve never heard before. I’m taken aback, but quickly fall back into the lustful moment he’s created. I’m happy to play along if this is what he wants.   
“Because I’ll be a good girl for you,” I pout, pressing my arms against my chest, causing my breasts to practically spill out of my bra. I see his eyes go wide at the sight, but his attention quickly returns to my face.   
“Good girls actually do their homework,” he replies, closing in on me again.   
“I promise we’ll get back to it when we’re done, I need you right now, Spencer,” I whimper, my thighs rubbing together for some relief. He backs away again, his face lost in thought. Moments later, he speaks again.   
“Stand up and finish stripping,” he commands. I’m happy to comply if it means I’ll get to feel his touch again. I just know with they way he’s speaking to me that I’m in for a treat.   
He still stands apart from me, even when I’m completely naked in front of him, causing embarrassment to creep into my cheeks. I hug my sides, almost shielding myself from his burning gaze. I can’t settle again until he starts to inch towards me, the longing for his presence making me relax under his touch.   
“Turn around.” His voice his soft but it maintains the authoritative tone that has been causing wetness to drip between my thighs. As soon as I do, I’m being pushed against the counter, the cold granite flush against my chest and stomach. Spencer’s finger slides between my folds before circling my clit.  
“Spencer,” I moan at the friction, but still crave more. “Please, I need you so bad.”  
His knuckles lightly run down my spine, the careful gesture juxtaposing everything else about this interaction. His body is flush to mine as he leans down to whisper in my ear.  
“Please tell me if anything is too much.” The familiar sweetness has returned to his voice, making my heart flutter, but my pussy quiver as I anticipate his next move. I want to turn and watch as I hear him remove his pants, but my desire to be a good submissive in this moment overwhelms me.   
He grabs my hips roughly before pushing into my core, forcing me to call out his name as I feel him fill me. It doesn’t take him long to build up his pace, practically slamming into me with every thrust. The roughness of his touch has me falling closer to the edge every second.   
“Oh, fuck, Princess, you feel so good around me,” he cries out, his pace still unrelenting. The room is filled by the sounds of his hips hitting mine and the curses that fall from both of our mouths.   
“I’m close, Spencer” I warn, worried he can’t hear me with the way my face is turned from him. He responds by dipping one hand between my legs, circling my clit, as the other grabs a handful of hair, slightly lifting me from the countertop. The stimulation all over my body overwhelms me, ushering in my orgasm that washes over my entire body.   
“Come for me, Princess,” Spencer commands as I close around him, calling out his name as I finish. He’s not far behind, filling me to the hilt a couple more times before pulling out and covering my back in his seed. As soon as he comes down from his high, he grabs my arm and pulls me to face him. He looks worried, his eyes heavy and a frown drawn on.   
“Are you okay? Was that okay?” He asks, almost afraid of touching me anymore, his hand is the only thing making contact with me. I pull him into a warm embrace, my fingers combing through his hair.   
“I wish I could have seen that side of you sooner,” I laugh. I feel the weight lift off his shoulders. He pulls away to reveal the sweet smile spread across his face.   
“Let me help you clean up and then we can get back to that project,” he suggests. I nod eagerly in agreement, following him to the bathroom.   
I spent the rest of the night with Spencer, but by the time we got to class Friday morning, I didn’t have much more than a title on my poster.


	23. Miss Independent

Two weeks turned into two days very quickly. I found myself crammed into the corner of a library on FaceTime with Spencer trying to finish the poster a day before it was due. Every time I met up with Spencer during those two weeks to work on it, the night ended differently than we planned. Regardless of the wonderful pleasures I experienced, I was left with half of a poster on an equation I only half understood.   
With Spencer on FaceTime, all I could do was tease, which he was quick to put to a halt as I neared an eight-a.m. deadline. Working as hard as I could, I was able to come up with a finished product that had Spencer’s approval around two in the morning. Needless to say, walking into class the next morning, I was a wreck. Lucky for me, my wonderful boyfriend and personal tutor had brought me a hot coffee to perk up my senses.   
The class drew to an end as I could barely keep my eyes open. Spencer nudged my shoulder to grab my attention as the students filed out.   
“Hey, I’ve got to stay and talk to Sessions. Maybe you should run back to your place for a quick nap.” His suggestion is enticing, the caffein in my blood doing nothing but making my hands shake.  
“I’d rather go to yours,” I practically slur, resting my head on his shoulder. He’s quick to push me off, neither of us sure if anyone is still in the room. I sigh, resting my head on the table. I had to work so hard at maintaining a relationship I couldn’t even admit was real in public. That same relationship had me working twice as hard to pass my classes. I’m surprised my body hadn’t given out sooner. I open my eyes again when Spencer pushes something toward me.   
“I was going to give you this. My place is closer anyway, get some sleep,” he speaks, softly. His voice is shy, as if he’s worried that he’s done something wrong. I look at the object gracing my fingertips, a key.   
“Spence,” I gasp, my head shooting up. He’s hovering over the table, packing his belongings back into his bag. He flashes me a big smile before approaching our professor. I take it as my que to leave, collecting my own things and heading out towards Spencer’s apartment. As soon as I get there, I trade in my clothes for one of Spencer’s hoodies and set an alarm for my next class. I’m asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow, drowning in the comfort of Spencer Reid.   
*****  
After my classes ended, I took myself right back to Spencer’s place, wanting nothing more than to set up my study space at his dining table while wrapped in his clothing. Awaiting Spencer’s arrival, I put on a pot of coffee and open my student portal to check my grades. I knew that the project wouldn’t be in yet given I had just turned it in that morning, but I was anxious about exams coming up in just under two weeks. I really needed a miracle with this project.   
What flashes across my screen surprises me. Sessions input a grade that was labeled as extra credit, but I hadn’t done any extra credit work. Granted, I was awfully close to emailing her for the opportunity, but I never did hit send. I go into my email to notify her of the mistake, not wanting her to find it and thing I was being dishonest by not bringing it up.   
I’m distracted from my computer by the sound of the front door opening. My legs are moving before my brain even tells them to and I practically jump into Spencer’s arms. He places a tender kiss to my lips before even setting down his bag.   
“Hey, I wasn’t expecting you to still be here,” he says, surprised but in a good way.   
“I liked it so much I just decided to set up shop,” I gesture to my books scattered across his table.   
“Fine by me. You look good in that, by the way,” he eyes the large hoodie hanging off my frame, gently squeezing my ass as he speaks. My cheeks flush despite the familiar feeling. Spencer begins spreading his things across the table, taking a seat to join me in a study session.   
“How has your day been,” he asks, only half paying attention.   
“Not bad after that nap. Although, something weird did just happen,” I reply, my inbox still open on my laptop.   
“What?” He interrogates further, still diverting most of his attention to that journal.   
“Sessions made a mistake in the grade book. It says I submitted something for extra credit, but I didn’t. I should ask if there is something I can do though because it helped my grade a lot,” I explain. Spencer doesn’t answer immediately, so I return to the work I had started before Spencer arrived.   
The room is oddly silent as we work, as if Spencer’s presence had been withdrawn. Every time I try to open my mouth, just to hold a conversation with him like I normally do when we study together, the air around me suffocates me. He’s hiding something.   
Out of the corner of my eye, I can see that his focus is being drawn to something other than his journal for once. He bites his lip as he’s lost in thought, squinting his eyes as he searches for something in his head. He takes a deep breath, preparing for the worst, before opening his mouth.  
“I talked to Sessions this morning,” he says, meekly.   
“Yeah, I know.” I reply, not sure why that is making him so worried.  
“I asked her to bump up your grade,” he admits, his head dropping, refusing to meet my gaze. My head is sent into a frenzy, I don’t know what to say or how I feel.   
“I didn’t ask you to do that,” I manage, revealing much more anger than I expected.   
“I know, I just wanted to help,” he retracts further into himself with every word.   
I’ve told him time after time that I didn’t want our relationship to give me an advantage in class. I didn’t want to be the girl that sleeps with her professor for an A, but here I am. I didn’t even want to have him tutor me half the time when that was a completely normal thing for a TA to do. What the hell made him think this was okay?  
What made it worse is that there was no way to straighten it out. What was I supposed to do, tell Sessions that I don’t want the extra credit? How would that even work? Any attempt to get things back to normal would mean revealing that I’ve been dating my TA and that will just make everything worse. He jeopardized my relationship with my professors without even thinking about it.   
“I really thought you were smarter than this. How do you think this looks to Sessions? There’s no way you can take it back and now I’m sitting in her class with a grade I didn’t earn,” I shout, my throat itching when I stop, but still dying to scream more.   
“I didn’t want you to fail the class, Viv. You haven’t exactly been a stellar student,” he raises his voice, but not near the shouting that I had done.   
“I haven’t been a stellar student? There’s a million other ways you could have helped with that,” I argue back. His gaze finally meets mine, fuming.   
“I tried to help you but all you want to do is fuck!” His words cut deep, mostly because he was right.   
“You didn’t exactly stop me,” I speak through gritted teeth. I can feel the tears welling in my eyes from him throwing our relationship in my face like that.   
“You’re right about that, but it still doesn’t make your choices my fault,” he spits, his voice almost too calm.   
“Exactly, Spencer! They aren’t your fault, so you didn’t need to do anything about them,” I scream, anger making tears finally drip down my face. Spencer, noticing, reaches for my hand, but I back away, almost falling out of my chair.   
“Don’t fucking touch me,” I growl.  
“That is hilarious coming from you,” he mutters. I can’t even believe he just said that.   
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I slam my fists at my side as I speak, unable to contain my emotions.   
“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with me?” He repeats, emphasizing the word ‘me’ each time. “All I ever…all I ever did,” he stutters, rising from his seat and carefully making his way toward me. I see him counting out his breaths, trying to calm himself before he attempts to touch me again. The air grows more tense with every moment he’s silent, his eyes screwed shut.   
“All I ever did was try to give you everything, to be the best boyfriend I could be, because, damn it, Vivian…” he rushes out, taking a deep breath before he speaks again. “I love you.” A single tear drips down his cheek, begging me to reciprocate, begging me to do anything other than what I’m about to do.   
“You don’t love me if you can’t respect my wishes. All I ever wanted was to succeed on my own, prove myself to myself. You knew I was worried about our relationship giving me a leg up in the class and you go and push my grade up for me. Then, when I get mad at you about that, you claim you’re just doing what’s best for me because I don’t know how to keep it in my pants,” I fume. Hot tears fall down my face, but I keep going, the words coming out like vomit.  
“You don’t fucking love me, Spencer, if you can’t fucking listen to me.”   
A surprising calm falls over the room, the heat of the moment dissipating as we stand, vulnerable. Everything that had needed to be said had been said, and that relief washed over the room like a flood. Was it what we wanted to hear? No, but it needed to be out in the open, nonetheless.   
I did love Spencer, I loved him with all my heart, but I couldn’t forgive this yet. He hadn’t even asked for my forgiveness. I felt nothing in my chest as I pulled the silver key he had given me out of my pocket. It might as well have been the key to my heart as I left it on the dining room table.   
With a calmness I didn’t know could exist right now, I collected my belongings and left Spencer’s apartment, but not without a swift kiss on his cheek. I tasted the saltiness of his tears on my lips as I tried to dry mine, walking away for I don’t know how long.


	24. The Toughest Decision

I don’t know what happened between Spencer and I—I don’t know where we stand after that argument and thus, I don’t know if I still have a boyfriend. He texts me, I text back, but it’s never anything of substance. I try to keep my heart from leaping out of my chest every time he texts me good morning, still awaiting an apology.   
Yes, I was awaiting an apology. I probably shouldn’t have yelled at him, but as far as I was concerned, I had done nothing wrong. Yet all I want to do is leap into his arms again and tell him that I love him, because I do love him. No matter how mad I get, I can’t argue that. He understands me in a way that no one else does, but at the same time he is my kryptonite.   
With only one discussion section left in the semester, I attended another section, counting down the days until Spencer was officially no longer my teacher. More importantly, counting down the days until I could finish this semester and leave all the troubles it brought me behind.   
Less than a week was left of classes, but I desperately needed a new study buddy if I was going to ace this exam. Sessions returned my email explaining that I had one of her ‘respected colleagues’ vouching for me, which is why she boosted my grade. Regardless, I was determined to earn an A on the final and prove to myself that I could succeed without Spencer’s help. This determination forced me into adopting Kori as a new study partner.   
“So, you guys aren’t together anymore?” Kori asks, me having just explained to her why I needed her help. It’s six in the morning on a Thursday, so the library is practically dead. Even the receptionist is falling asleep at her desk, but Kori insisted that this was the best time to study for finals. I guess she was right, no people meant no distractions, but my heavy eyelids certainly didn’t help.   
“I really don’t know. We don’t even need to bother with it right now, we should just focus on acing this exam.” She nodded in agreement. The test was only a week away and neither of us felt anywhere near ready yet.   
As we work, I notice how much easier the atmosphere is around us. I can genuinely focus on my work when Kori is around and it’s easy to ask her questions whenever I get confused. I explain to her concepts when she asks, which ends up being a form of studying in itself. I thought it would be great to have the boy genius tutoring me, I mean, he knew everything, but for some reason I was learning much more when I was with Kori.   
We spend hours sprawled across a round table in the center of the first floor. As the sun rises, the surrounding tables begin to fill and the dull chatter of students anxiously awaiting their finals takes over the room.   
Kori slams her book shut, the thump of the hard cover across the stack of pages startling me out of my own study-trance. “We deserve a treat. Let’s go to Bruegger’s,” she announces. I can’t disagree with her; they have some of the best breakfast sandwiches on campus. It’s only ten o’clock as we exit the now crowded library. The diag is filled with frost bitten students covered in layers, protecting themselves from the Michigan winter. Lucky for us, Bruegger’s is a short walk.   
The delicious smell of baked bread and fresh coffee overwhelms me as we enter the small shop. I order myself my favorite sandwich on an everything bagel and a large cup of coffee, hoping to get through the day without a nap.   
The more I wake up, the more my mood lifts. I can’t lie, I’ve been in a funk since Spencer and I had that argument and the early hour that Kori had me studying certainly hadn’t helped. Today felt different. I was at ease, even though I hadn’t seen Spencer in over a week. His name no longer lingered on my tongue, his ghost didn’t wander my brain as often. In fact, once Kori and I actually settled in, I don’t think I thought about him once while we studied. However, the odd peace that came from his absence made me wonder, out toud,  
“What should I do about Spencer?” I blurt out. Kori was the only person I could talk about this with. She had become a surprisingly good friend in the short time that I had known her.   
Her face lifts from her food, twisted in confusion. She, unlike Spencer, takes the time to swallow her food before responding to me.   
“I can’t tell you what to do, I’m not in love with him. Well, I am in love with him, but more of his face and his hands and the idea of him, you actually know him,” she rambles. It makes me laugh, the way I can talk to her about him since we both adore him in different ways.   
“I do love him, and I want to be with him, but it feels like it’s too much right now,” I reason. Really, Kori’s purpose in this conversation isn’t to give me advice, it’s to listen to me as I figure it out on my own.   
“Do you think you could live without him?” She asks, sipping on the strawberry smoothie she had ordered.   
“Realistically, no. If I knew that breaking up with him meant I wouldn’t have him in my life every again, I wouldn’t be able to do it.” Spencer was more than just a boyfriend, a fuckbuddy. He was special. He made me happy, he listened to me when I was upset, he taught me about the world and kept me company even when I was being an asshole. I hadn’t had a connection like that with someone in a long time, if ever.   
“What if it wasn’t forever?” She posed.   
“I’m not sure,” I sigh. This is a lot to deal with, but I must figure it out now. I couldn’t leave campus next week without knowing where we stood. “The main reason I was so mad was because I was losing focus, and that’s not his fault, but doing well in school and getting a good job are really important to me.”  
Kori nods along as I speak, taking on a therapist persona. She grabs my hand from across the table, squeezing it while focusing intently on my face. She watches the gears turning in my head, silently coming up with a solution to what seemed like an impossible problem. I wouldn’t be happy without Spencer, but I wouldn’t have a life without my education. My eyes go wide as I make a decision. Kori sees it, squeezing my hand tighter.   
“What are you going to do?” She asks, her voice soft and soothing.   
“I have to break up with him.”


	25. Goodbye

It was a difficult decision, but I knew it had to be done. I could live without a boy, even if that boy was one of the sweetest, smartest, and most interesting people I have ever met. I held back tears as I sat alone in my apartment. It had been almost two weeks since the last time I saw Spencer and every moment away from him was suffocating. Lucky for me, when I could find the motivation to do something other than lie on the couch watching romcoms, it was studying. I may have missed Spencer dearly, but I still wanted to prove to him that I could succeed without his help.   
I couldn’t be bothered to turn the lights on, so I sat in darkness, letting the sweet sorrow of my ‘sad vibes’ playlist fill the room. A cup of mint tea sat on the coffee table, getting colder by the second as I neglected to nurse it. I couldn’t move from my huddled position on the couch, too lost in my thoughts and the mellow melody swirling through the room. I almost didn’t notice the soft rapping at my door, writing it off as the sound of my own heart thumping before it grew louder.   
The lights were off, my music wasn’t loud enough to be heard from the hallway, whoever it was would just go away eventually, assuming no one was home.   
“Vivian,” I heard a shaky voice through the door, “please.” He sounded desperate, struggling to speak as regret filled his head. It was time—he was here, and I was going to break up with him. I reluctantly shifted from my position of the couch, stumbling over to the door before opening it just a crack. I had eye liner smudged under my eyes, my hair fell out of my ponytail in pieces, and my baggy clothes hid my figure. I hadn’t bothered to make myself look acceptable since the last time I met up with Kori to Spencer.  
I answered the door with a sigh as my greeting, which brought tears to Spencer’s eyes. He didn’t look much better than I did—he left the house in sweats, which he never did, and the dark circles around his eyes revealed how little he had been sleeping. In one hand, he held a grocery bag, and in the other, a single red rose.   
“I’m here to apologize, can I please come in?” He asked, the sound of his voice like music to my ears. I wanted to be with him, but I couldn’t. I opened the door all the way and made my way back over to the couch, turning on a lamp so that he didn’t have to wallow in the same depression I had been in.   
I tucked myself back into the corner of the couch, facing Spencer as he began to unpack the contents of his bag. He placed the rose across the coffee table, brushing against my mug, before taking out Reese’s pieces, dried mangos, freeze dried strawberries, and butter braid pretzels. His gesture tugged at my heart strings, he brought all my favorite snacks with him to apologize to me and I was just going to end it.   
He kept his distance from me, which I was thankful for, as he began to speak, his words trembling at first but sped up into a ramble.   
“I was wrong for saying those things about you. I should be supporting you in every way I can, but I should also trust that you can handle yourself. You are such an amazing and impassioned person; I should have known that you didn’t want and didn’t need my help. If I could take it back, I would. I am so sorry, Vivian.”  
I was silent to keep the tears from falling, my lips pressed tight as I tried to figure out how to respond.   
“You don’t need to accept my apology, I wouldn’t. I just couldn’t sleep knowing how upset I made you and that I didn’t do anything to try and fix it.” His face looked so soft in the warm glow of the only light in the room. His golden irises hid behind his lowered gaze, anticipating my response.   
“I’m, um,” I stuttered, trying to keep my composure, “I’m glad you came.” I gave into the tightness in my chest and fell onto his body, wrapping my arms tightly around his torso. I sobbed into the t-shirt he wore as he twirled his fingers through my loose hair.   
When I was finally calm enough to speak again, I turned my head so that he could hear my voice, but kept my body pressed tightly against his.   
“Spencer, I have to tell you something,” I whispered, counting my breathing in my head as not to burst out in tears again. “I don’t think we should be together right now.” My words said one thing, but my body said another as I ran my fingers along the length of his spine. He didn’t say anything.   
“You were right, I get too easily distracted by you. I can’t keep myself in this position knowing I can’t control myself, no matter how badly I want to.” The calmness in my voice surprises me, the tears retracting from my waterline.   
“Do you want to watch a movie?” He asks as if he hadn’t heard a word I said. I lifted my head to meet his gaze, seeing the redness of his eyes and the tears trailing down his cheeks. He had heard. I nodded, grabbing the remote and the bag of dried mango before returning to his warm embrace.   
We laughed and sang as we watched Hercules, then Tangled, then Moana. Spencer’s voice was hoarse as he recited the lyrics he had heard only once or twice before. I played with his hair and he lightly massaged my back as we relaxed, taking in what might be one of our last memories together. The atmosphere was odd, almost nostalgic; a last attempt at a normal relationship before we went our separate ways.   
The credits for Moana rolled as Spencer yawned, his warm breath making the hairs stand up on the back of my neck. Looking up at him, I saw all the reasons I so desperately wanted to abandon common sense and live in his shadow. Against my better judgement, I pressed my lips to his, earning a quick response. I love you. I felt it in the careful movements of his lips, the way he held me as he deepened the kiss.   
I pull myself up to straddle him, letting his lips roam as I laced my fingers through his hair. I tugged at the hem of his shirt to remove it, which prompted him to quickly do the same for me. His lips teased at my hardening nipples as my nails trailed down his back. I had lost my mind, but I couldn’t think of a better way to end this chapter of our relationship.   
“Vivian,” Spencer sighed into my chest as he continued to leave sloppy kisses around the area.   
“Spencer,” I moaned back as my hips grinded against his growing erection. I felt him groan at the friction which hastened the wetness pooling in my underwear. His hand left my back, easing its way between us and under the waistband of my sweats. He traced his fingers up and down my core over my underwear, making me whimper at his touch.   
His teasing relented as I began grinding into his fingers, his hand finally moving past my underwear to collect the wetness that only he could elicit.   
“Baby,” he groaned, pressing my forehead to his as his fingers eased into my core. He thrusted into me perfectly as his thumb circled my clit, leaving me a puddle of moans and whimpers with my head resting on his shoulder.   
“Wait,” I panted, prompting Spencer to immediately withdraw his touch. “Let me ride you, I want to come on you,” I practically begged. I saw the relief roll off his body hearing my words. I stood and Spencer helped push my sweats down my legs before quickly removing his own bottoms. I straddled him again and slowly lowered myself onto his shaft. The sharp breath he took in fueled my actions as I began shifting my hips, grinding my clit against him.  
His fingers dug into my hips hard enough to leave bruises, his other arm pulling my torso tight to his. I sucked at the skin on his neck as he began thrusting his hips to meet mine, hitting that perfect spot.   
“Spencer,” I breathed as if it was the only word I knew. My head was foggy, all I could think about was pouring my heart and soul into Spencer. I met his gaze as I continued to bounce up and down his shaft, admiring the twisted expression of pleasure that took over his face. His eyes peered into me, reading every thought I could manage.   
“I love you,” I sighed as my orgasm grew closer. My words fueled his desire, positioning his hips to fuel me perfectly.   
“I missed you so much,” he hums into my mouth as his lips attack mine, his hands feverishly kneading my breasts. His touch was perfect. I felt my body fall into his as my climax came.  
“Spencer…I’m,” I whimpered, throwing my head back as my orgasm washed over my body, his fingers playing delicately with my clit as I rode it out. He kept my body pulled tightly to his as he finished, his cock twitching as I tightened around him.  
We sat in silence, holding onto the fleeing moment, basking in the scent of sweat and love. His breathing was the only thing filling my senses, grounding me in the memory. I didn’t notice the tears slipping down my face until Spencer brought his thumb to my face, brushing them away.   
“Do you really love me?” He whispered, not moving from the position we had held.   
“I do…I just,” I sniffled, hurting myself with my own words, “I just need to love myself more right now.” His grip loosened, begging me to look into his eyes.  
“I love you, Vivian,” he spoke. His eyes melted my hurt away. I could see the sadness behind them, but there was also a part of him that understood me. He knew that this was for the best.   
“I love you, Spencer.”  
We got dressed in silence. He helped clean the trash from our movie snacks while I grabbed a small glass and filled it with water to put the rose in. My fingers lingered on the doorknob, too afraid of what opening it meant. The creaking of the hinges ringed in my ear as Spencer walked out into the hallway, stopping just outside of my door. How do I end this?  
“It’s not goodbye,” I say, my voice hushed, “It’s see you later.” The last thing I saw was the small smile on his face as I closed my door.


	26. Epilogue

Three long weeks away from Ann Arbor were filled with family, friends, laughter, gifts, and a bit of drama that you could only expect from having half of your extended family crammed into one house for the holidays. Char went home to Texas and spent the holidays with her aunt and uncle. Before she left, she gifted me a pair of socks covered in Snoopy and Woodstock, that are now my new obsession. Kori went back to Maine before embarking on her two-weeklong European vacation that she made sure to send me plenty of pictures from. I hadn’t heard from Spencer, but every day we spent apart, I realized it was for the best.   
I loved my family, but it was nice to be back in my apartment. I arrived two days before Char was supposed to fly in, giving me plenty of time to tidy up without her begging me to go out, which was the first thing she insisted on when I did pick her up from the airport. It was a fun weekend, crawling from club to club, scantily clad despite the snow falling from the sky. It was a great last weekend of freedom before the semester would steal away most of my free time.   
Kori enrolled in Organic Chemistry III, a class for only true chemistry nerds. Monday morning, she met me at the small coffee shop she had showed me on our study dates last semester to grab a drink before we made our way to our first lecture. We escaped the chemistry building as soon as possible when it ended, neither one of us wanting to accidentally confront Spencer, who surely still worked and taught there.   
We met at that same shop again the following Monday, making it our new tradition as our friendship blossomed. I still wasn’t keen on her friends Marian and Stefan, but I’m sure they would grow on me the way she had. She brought me a series of gorgeous post cards she picked up in various little shops throughout Italy and Greece, where she had spent her time lounging in the sun while listening to Mariah Carey’s ‘All I Want For Christmas Is You’.  
That was yesterday. Today we met in the atrium before our first discussion section, patiently waiting with a handful of students I was beginning to recognize from our orgo 3 lecture.   
“How have you been?” Kori asked, finally starting the interrogation I had been anticipating since the minute I saw her on campus again.   
“I’m fine, really,” I replied, my voice giving away some of my dishonesty as it wavered. Saved by the bell, students began filing out of the classroom we were assigned to, and I slipped beside them to find my seat and get out my laptop. Kori sat next to me, thankfully deciding not to press the issue further.   
I scroll through the notes our professor, Dr. Brightwater, had posted from the past week. Quantum mechanics was difficult, but this class was really no joke. I get lost in the pages of diagrams and equations that already cluttered my head after only a week, so much so that I don’t even notice when our TA walks in and Kori, along with a few other girls, audibly gasp.   
No, it’s the voice that snaps me out of my trance, my head leaving its hiding spot behind my screen at the sound of it.   
“Good morning class. My name is Dr. Spencer Reid and I’ll be your TA this semester.”  
Fuck.


End file.
